
Book_iIlAxS_^ 



\^8>\3 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 



BY 

JEROME K. JEROME 




SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th St., New York 



DOROTHY'S NEIGHBORS. 

A brand new comedy in four acts, by Marie Doran, author of "The 
New Co-Ed," "Tempest and Sunshine," and many other successful plays. 
4 males, 7 females. The scenes are extremely easy to arrange ; two plain 
interiors and one exterior, a garden, or, if necessary, the two interiors 
will answer. Costumes modem. Plays 2J^ hours. 

The story is about vocational trainiag, a subject now widely discussed; also, 
the distribution of large wealth. 

Back of the comedy situation and snappy dialogue there is good logic and 
i sound moral in this pretty play, which is worthy the attention of the experi- 
enced amateur. It is a clean, wholesome play, particularly suited to high school 
production. Price, 30 Cents. 



MISS SOMEBODY ELSE. 

A modem play in four acts by Marion Short, author of "The Touch- 
down," etc. 6 males, 10 females. Two interior scenes. Costumes mod- 
ern. Plays 854 hours. 

This delightful comedy has gripping dramatic moments, unusual character 
types, a striking and original plot and is essentially modern in theme and treat- 
ment. The story concerns the adventures of Constance Darcy, a multi-million- 
aire's young daughter. Constance embarks on a trip to find a young man who 
had been in her father's employ and had stolen a large sum of money. She 
almost succeeds, when suddenly all traces of the young man are lost. At this 
point she meets some old friends who are living in almost want and, in order to 
assist them through motives benevolent, she determines to sink her own aristo- 
cratic personality in that of a refined but humble little Irish waitress with the 
family that are in want. She not only carries her scheme to success in assisting 
the family, but finds romance and much tense and lively adventure during the 
period of her incognito, aside from capturing the young man who had defrauded 
her father. The story is full of bright comedy lines and dramatic situations and 
is highly recommended for amateur production. This is one of the best come- 
dies we have ever offered with a large number of female characters. The dialogue 
is bright and the play is full of action from start to finish; not a dull moment In 
it. This is a great comedy for high schools and colleges, and the wholesome 
story will please the parents and teachers, We strongly recommend it. 

Price, 30 Cents- 



PURPLE AND FINE LINEN. 

An exceptionally pretty comedy of Puritan New England, in three 
acts, by Amita B. Fairgrieve and Helena Miller. 9 male, 5 female char- 
acters. 

This is the Lend A Hand Smith College prize play. It is an admirable play 
for amateurs, is rich in character portrayal of varied types and is not too difficult 
Xrhilc thoroughly pleasing. Price, 30 Cents, 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 
SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York City 

New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 






THE PASSING OF THE THIRD 
FLOOR BACK 



The Passing of the Third 
Floor Back 

AN IDLE FANCY 

In a Prologue, A Play, and An 
Epilogue 



By 
JEROME K. JEROME 



" I will seek thy good " 




Samuel French : : Publisher 

28-30 ^*/Vest Thirty-eighth St., New York 



t ) ? z u 






Copyright, 1921 / 9 2. / Ci^ 

By DODD, mead and company, Inc. 



Especial notice should be taken that the possession of 
this book without a valid contract for production first 
having been obtained from the publisher, confers no right 
or license to professionals or amateurs to produce the play 
publicly or in private for gain or charity. 

In its present form this play is dedicated to the reading 
public only, and no performance, representation, produc- 
tion, recitation, or public reading may be given except by 
special arrangement with Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th 
Street, New York. 

This play may be presented by amateurs upon payment 
of a royalty of Twenty-Five Dollars for each perform- 
ance, payable to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, 
New York, one week before the date when the play is 
given. 

Whenever the play is produced the following notice must 
appear on all programs, printing and advertising for the 
play: "Produced by special arrangement with Samuel 
French of New York." 

Attention is called to the penalty provided by law for 
any infringement of the author's rights, as follows: 

"Section 4966 : — Any person publicly performing or rep- 
resenting any dramatic or musical composition for which 
copyright has been obtained, without the consent of the 
proprietor of said dramatic or musical compositions, or his 
heirs and assigns, shall be liable for damages thereof, 
such damages, In all cases to be assessed at such sum, not 
less than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dol- 
lars for every subsequent performance, as to the court 
shall appear to be just. If the unlawful performance and 
representation be ^v^lful and for profit, such person or 
persons shall be^ guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon con- 
viction shall be imprisoned for a period not exceeding one 
year."— U. S. Revised Statutes : Title 60, Chap. 3. 



1 

J — 



CHARACTERS IN THE PROLOGUE 

A Satyr 
A Coward 
A Bully 
A Shrew 
A Hussy 
A Rogue 
A Cad 
A Cat 
A Snob 
A Slut 
A Cheat 
and 
A Passer-by 



is] 



The Passing of the Third 
Floor Back 



PROLOGUE 

SCENE 

The first floor front of 13, Bloomsbury Place, London, 
W. C. The furniture is of the Early Victorian or 
horsehair period, A worn Brussels carpet covers 
the floor. A large round table occupies the centre 
of the room. The high bay windows, looking out 
upon the street, are draped with red curtains; 
between them stands a small desk. Against the 
wall at back, an old-fashioned cottage piano, and 
a sideboard. From the wall to the right of the 
audience large folding doors lead into the dining- 
room. Two easy-chairs face the fire, which is 
supposed to be in front: a dull red glow spreads 
itself across the room. The door at back opens 
into the passage. Opposite to it is the front door, 
surmounted by a "fanlight" ; and beyond, the ever- 
misty square, leafless in winter dreariness. A 
I7l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

heavy three-branched gaselier hangs from the ceil- 
ing, the globes hidden under paper shades. 
It is a Friday afternoon in November. 

[MRS. SHARPE is making out her bills. She is a tall, 
thin, sharp-featured woman. She wears a widow's 
cap and spectacles; the latter she takes off when not 
writing. She looks up from her writing, looks at 
her watch, then calls.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

Stasia! [She rises and goes to the door.] Lazy 
hussy. [Calls louder] Stasia! 

STASIA 

[Without.] All right— all right. Don't shout. 
Spoil yer voice for singing. 

[Enter as she speaks stasia, carrying a tray laden 
with tea-things. She is a slatternly young person, her 
hair fluffed all about her head.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

Don't answer me like that, you workhouse brat you. 
What have you been doing ? 

STASIA 

Injoring myself. [Puts down the tray on the table.] 
A.11 there is to do in this plice. 

[81 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

You take care you don't lose it — find yourself with 
the key of the street in your pocket. Not many places 
open to girls just out of prison. 

STASIA 

Industrial school, if you please. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Gives a snorting laugh.] What time did old 
Wright come in last night? 

STASIA 

[She is laying the table.] 'Bout 'alf past 'leven oi 
quarter to twelve. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Drunk ? 

STASIA 

Oh, just fuddled, sime as usual. You know, I sup- 
pose, that ye're out of whiskey ? 

MRS. SHARPE 

rd forgotten it. 

STASIA 

Lucky 'e wasn't in a noticing mood. I give 'im 'alf 
a tumblerful of cold tea and filled it up with soda 
water. 'E went to bed singing. [Laughs.] 

Isl 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Thinking aloud.] Cold tea? Not a bad idea, 

that. Much the same colour. 

STASIA 

And less 'armful. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She grows confidential.] He's the only one that 
ever asks for whiskey ? 

STASIA 

Only one of 'em as I'd trust not to blackmail yer 
afterwards for selling it to them without a licence. 

MRS. SHARPE 

No need to let him have it when he's sober. You 
can have mislaid the key. Understand? 

STASIA 

I understand. And where do I come in ? 

MRS. SHARPE 

You be a good girl, and maybe I'll find a blouse 
I've done with, when I've time to go over my drawer. 

STASIA 

Rather 'ave it 'fore you've done with it, if ye're 
sure yer can spare it. Don't want to be mistook, 
when I go out, for a bit of old London. 

[lO] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

We'll see about it. Perhaps [On her way 

back to the desk she has drifted near to the piano.] 
Who's been burning these candles? They are two 
inches shorter than when I blew them out last night — 
that I'll swear. 



STASIA 

Nobody been in 'ere as I know of. 

MRS. SHARPE 

The tricks and the dodges that they're up to! It's 
like living in a den of lions. [She has whipped out 
the candles, and with a pair of scissors is making se- 
cret marks upon them; which done, she replaces 
them.] 

STASIA 

It's a rummy world when you come to think of it. 
[Cheerfully] Got to be doing somebody or being done 
from the time you get up in the morning until yer goes 
to bed at night. And when yer do fall asleep, it's to 
dream you've forgotten to bolt yer door. By the by, 
what about that third floor back? Ain't yer going to 
do anything? 

["1 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

Oh! I've spent more than I'll get out of it in a 
month, advertising it. 

STASIA 

You don't make 'em spicy enough. [She takes up a 
folded copy of 'The Christian World."] This is the 
sort of thing you want. [Reads] " To the lonely : all 
the joys of 'ome." 

MRS. SHARPE 

Yes, I tried that one — once. Told me with tears in 
his eyes that I reminded him of his mother, and went 
off before five o'clock the next morning with the 
drawing-room clock. 

STASIA 

'Ow about a card ? That don't cost you nothing. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Don't quite like the idea of a card. Inviting all the 
rag-tag and bob-tail of the street to come into your 
house, it always seems to me like. Never know who 
may knock at your door. 

STASIA 

Maybe the very one you're waiting for. Was read- 
ing a story only the other d'y. A young girl — ^just in 

[12] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

a spirit of fun like — puts up a card in the window, 
and a young man comes along, and just for the joke 
of it they take 'im in, and 'e turns out to be a nobleman 
— in disguise. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Yes, I can believe in the disguise. No ; I don't like 
the idea of a card. We'll keep the house respectable 
so long as we can. [ With her hills in her hand she is 
passing out. She pauses to examine the milk- jug.] 
I think, Stasia, the milk will bear a little more water. 
[She goes out by the folding-doors.] 

STASIA 

[Mimics.] "Don't quite like the idea of a card." 
Silly old fool ! Don't know her own business. 

[stasia thinks. She makes sure that hrs. sharpe 
is out of sight; then takes a card from the drawer of 
the desk: with a chair goes out into the passage, 
climbs up and places the card in the fanlight over the 
front door. Returns. A beam of sunlight has softly 
stolen through the dingy fanlight. It lies across the 
room, growing in brightness, stasia returning, 
after having replaced the chair, stops puzzled for a 
moment — sunbeams in Bloomsbury in November be- 
ing rare.] 

I13] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

Gorblimy, if it ain't the sun! [She smiles.] For- 
gotten all about 'im! 

[Then fetches a jug of water from the sideboard. 
Is about to fill up the milk- jug; pauses; looks round. 
Takes a long pull from the jug first. Then fills it up 
and replaces the water- jug. She goes out.] 

[The front door is opened with a latch-key and miss 
KITE enters. She is a maiden lady of forty; her am- 
bition is to appear nineteen. She is painted and pow- 
dered and frizzled and beribboned. She wears fluffy 
golden hair, has pencilled eyebrows, made-up eyelashes, 
and carmine lips, with a waist of twenty-two. She 
giggles and gushes and simpers and bridles; and 
whenever she thinks nobody sees, is with the help of a 
pocket-mirror and toilet-case forever powdering and 
patching herself.] 

MISS KITE 

[She looks in, sees the room is empty, enters. 
Opening her reticule, she takes out four candle ends, 
substitutes them for the half-burnt piano candles. 
This is done swiftly and neatly. Hearing footsteps, 
she slips out, closing the door softly behind her.] 

[Re-enter mrs. sharpe Tvith a teapot. She puts 
down the teapot on the table; taking the key from her 

[14J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

pocket, opens the tantalus on the sideboard, brings 
down the whiskey decanter and proceeds to fill it from 
the teapot. Holding it up to judge of the colour, she 
catches sight of the changed candles. She puts down 
the whiskey decanter and charges across the room; 
examines them — hut of course they could not he the 
same. She is standing with them in her hand when 
re-enter stasia, with remainder of tea-things, includ- 
ing large teapot.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

Who's been in here ? 

STASIA 

Nobody. 

MRS. SHARPE 

What's the good of telling lies ? 

STASIA 

Who's telling lies? Think everybody's like your- 
self ? Can't open their mouth 

MRS. SHARPE 

Somebody must have been here. Candles don't 
change themselves. I'm 

[Re-enter Miss kite, having taken off her cloak and 
hat. A silence.] 

[15] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

You haven't any idea, I presume, Miss Kite, who has 
been in here steaHng the candles ? 

MISS KITE 

Stealing the candles ! 

MRS. SHARPE 

I beg their pardon. I should say "exchanging/* 
That's no robbery, of course. [From mock politeness 
to sudden fierceness] Taking four of them measur- 
ing well over six inches each, leaving me a set of 
measly stumps. [Rams them back into their sockets.] 
Nice sort of people living in this house, I must say. 

MISS KITE 

[The tell-tale teapot with the unstoppered whiskey 
decanter beside it, remains on the table, miss kite 
sniffs expressively.] Yes, do seem to be a bit tricky, 
some of them, don't they ? 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She savagely puts back the decanter. To stasia] 
Don't stand there grinning, you slatternly monkey. 
Pull up your stockings, do ; and ring the tea-bell. 

[She gives her the cold teapot, and stasia goes out. 
The bell is heard. A loud, brutal-sounding bell.] 
Ji6] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MISS KITE 

Shouldn't be surprised, between ourselves, if it 
wasn't that girl Stasia. Tell you what I saw her doing 
only the other day 

[There enters mrs. major tompkins. She is 
plump, pretty, forty- five, with white hair.] 
Oh, good afternoon, dear Mrs. Tompkins. 

[MRS. TOMPKINS ttfid MRS. SHARPE exchange a 
''Good afternoon." They seat themselves.] 

MISS KITE 

And how is the dear Major? I thought he seemed 
a little " liverish " this morning. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Always is after dining out — at somebody else's ex- 
pense. [She laughs.] Never can resist the tempta- 
tion of over-eating himself. 

Miss KITE 

Poor man! Doesn't often get the opportunity, does 
he? Dear Mrs. Sharpe sees to that. [She giggles.] 
Only my little joke, dear. 

MRS. SHARPE 

A generous table I have always advertised, and a 
generous table it will always be my endeavour to 

[17] 



The Passing of the TWrd Floor Back 

fiiaintain. Of course, if people will tight-lace so that 
their food can't 

MISS KITE 

Not too much cream, dear, thank you. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Examines the milk.] It does look a bit thin. 
Shall really have to change my milkman — if this 
goes on. 

MISS KITE 

Tradesmen are such thieves! [She winks at mrs. 
TOMPKINS.] Isn't Mrs. Dooley — I beg her pardon, 
Mrs. de Hooley — going to honour us with her pres- 
ence this afternoon? 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Perhaps we are not good enough company for the 
cousin of a baronet. [Laughs.] 

MISS KITE 

Perhaps not. But I think we might be for the 
widow of a potato salesman. My dear, I know it for 
a fact. And oh, her meanness! Would you believe 
it, her own sister, her own nephews and nieces, starv- 
ing : literally 

[MRS. DE HOOLEY has entered, a large, flabby, pale- 
[i8] 



The Passing of the Thh'd Floor Back 

faced lady. She speaks with the accent of aristocratic 
languor, mrs. sharpe has given a warning ''Hush.'"] 
We were just talking about you, dear. So afraid you 
weren't coming. But why in mourning, dear? I 
thought you had left it off. Not another loss, I hope ? 

[MRS. SHARPE has riscH and rung the bell.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Not your cousin, the baronet? 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[Seating herself.] Her late Majesty, the Queen <//! 

Naples. 

MISS KITE 

[She winks at the others.] Must be very expen- 
sive, belonging to Court circles. Don't you find it so ? 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

My dear, you can have no conception. There are 
times, I assure you, when I wish I had been born one 
of the people. 

[A German hand out in the Square begins to play 
The sound comes muffled.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Hark! 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MISS KITE 

Shall I open the window a little way, dear! The 
fog has lifted. We shall be able to hear better. [She 
half rises.] 

[stasia has entered with a jug of hot water.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

No, dear. If they see a lady, they'll expect some- 
thing. Stasia, you just open the window a little way. 

STASIA 

Gar on. Why not pay up yer tuppence and enjoy 
the luxury of feeling honest ? Only a 'a'penny a-piece. 

Mrs. SHARPE 
You do as you are told. 

STASIA 

[She goes to the window and throws it open. Calls 
out.] Pl'y up. We're all a-listening! 

MRS. SHARPE 

You baggage ! 

[stasia goes out laughing.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

I wonder at your keeping that girl. 

MISS KITE 

You got her from Walworth Jail, didn't you, dear? 

[20] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

Industrial school. 

MISS KITE 

My mistake, dear. I was speaking to one of the 
matrons about her only the other day. Very bad 
stock. The mother — well, we needn't go into par- 
ticulars. [Giggles.] Hope you're getting her cheap, 
dear. 

MRS. SHARPE 

If she can do any better for herself, the door's open. 
And if it comes to talk about getting things cheap — 
especially candles 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

She's not the class of girl to have about the place. 
IVe always said so. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

It does seem to me that when you are catering for 
ladies and gentlemen 

Miss KITE 

And when one remembers there are young girls 
about the house. [To mrs. tompkins.] Is it tru^, 
dear, that dear Miss Tompkins is engaged to Mf. 
Wright? Can we congratulate you? 

[21 1 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Well, nothing is absolutely settled. 

MISS KITE 

Oh I Oh, I do hope she gets him. Because she 
has worked hard, poor girl. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Yes, and if paint and powder could have done 
it 

[The COLLECTOR for the German hand appears at 
the window. He thrusts his little hag on the end of a 
stick through the opening.] 

COLLECTOR 

For ze moosik — you vill gif someting? Yes? 

MRS. SHARPE 

Go away. We don*t give to beggars. 

COLLECTOR 

For ze moosik — yes? 

MISS KITE 

The persistence of the man ! 

MRS. SHARPE 

We never encourage foreigners. 

[22] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Eack 

COLLECTOR 

Yes? 

MRS. SHARPE 

No. I shall call the police — ^polizei ! 

COLLECTOR 

Pigs! 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Who has risen and crossed, bangs the window.] 

MISS KITE 

Did you hear that ? Called us pigs ! 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

It's surprising how well they know English. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Reseating herself.] You'll take another cup of 
tea? 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[She has risen. She is still ruffled from her en- 
counter with MISS KITE.] Thank you, Mrs. Sharpe, 
but there are one or two little things I have to see to. 

MISS KITE 

I hope you don't mind what I said just now about 
dear Vivian. Only my little joke. 

[23] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Of course, if it was only a joke 



MRS. SHARPE 

You're sure you won't have another cup? 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Quite, thank you, dear. To tell you the truth, I 
rather want to be upstairs when my old man comes in. 
There's a little dressing-down I owe him that he got 
out of last night. [She laughs.] 

MISS KITE 

[Laughs also.] He doesn't often dodge it, does he, 
dear? Not when you're feeling yourself. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Well, I flatter myself he knows what I think of him. 
[Laughing, goes out, well pleased with herself.] 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Really, I feel quite sorry for that poor man. Of 
course he is a beast. 

MISS KITE 

My dear, he can give her as good as he gets. 

MRS. SHARPE 

How they keep it up is a mystery to me. It's cat 
[24] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

and dog from the time they get up in the morning till 
they go to bed at night. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Young Larkcom calls them " Darby and Joan." 
[They all laugh.] 

MISS KITE 

She didn't like what I said about the girl. [Gig- 
gles.] And it's only the truth. The shameless way 
she has set her cap at that poor man! Makes one 
blush for one's sex. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Merely a common racing man, wasn't he? 

MRS. SHARPE 

A bookmaker — until he lost his voice. 

MISS KITE 

They say it was the funniest thing at the end: to 
hear him trying to shout [Mimics] " Two to one, bar 
one." Nobody could hear him a yard away. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

You think he's really as rich as he makes out he is ? 

MRS. SHARPE 

Well, I wouldn't like to say that — of anybody. 
[25] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

ISflSS KITE 

Well, my advice to her would be to marry him 
quickly and take him away — somewhere where our 
Israelitish friend Jape Samuels won't be able to get 
hold of him — unless, of course, she loves him for him- 
self alone. 

MRS. SHARPE 

I've noticed Samuels has been pretty soapy to him 
of late. What is the little try-on? Have you heard 
anything ? 

MISS KITE 

A little, my dear. [She winks.] Can't very well 
help it if people will talk loud enough to be heard the 
other side of a deal door. Of course, he may have a 
silver-mine to sell, and it may be worth all that he says 
it is, and then, again, it mayn't. 

[The clock strikes the half -hour — two strokes.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

Half-past. [Rising.] I must be seeing about din- 
ner. It's a funny world. [To MRS. de hooley] 
Won't you take anything more ? 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Nothing more, thank you. 
r26j 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MISS KITE 

Funny people in it. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Has suggested to her another slice of cake.] 

MISS KITE 

No, thanks, dear. What is the menu to-night? 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She is by the sideboard.] Well, I thought a curry 
would be a pleasant change this evening. 

MISS KITE 

Ah yes, just the day for it. And your curries, dear, 
are always so good. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Oh, I'm so glad you Hke them. You're sure you've 
finished ? 

MISS KITE 

Quite, dear, thank you. 

MRS. SHARPE 

ril send the girl to clear away. 

[MRS. SHARPE, uHobserved, has locked the tantalus. 
She goes out through the folding-doors.] 

127} 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MISS KITE 

[Looks round the room and sees that mrs. sharpe 
has gone.] That means that the veal is a bit "off." 
Such a useful thing, a little curry powder, for disguis- 
ing the smell. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[She sighs.] I suppose they are all alike — lodging- 
house keepers. 

MISS KITE 

Cats, my dear, all of them. There's no other word 
for them — cats. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[As together they go towards the door.] It's a 
wicked world. 

MISS KITE 

Ah, you may well say that. And it don't get any 
better, that's the sad 

[MRS. DE HOOLEY has Opened the door. The beam 
of sunlight falls full upon their faces, making them 
both blink for the moment.] 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Well, I never! Quite a treat to see the sun. 
[28] 



The Passing of the Thh'd Floor Back 

MISS KITE 

Well, myself, I don't care for it. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

You don't ! 

MISS KITE 

My dear, it shows us all up too much. [She gig- 
gles; and they go out, leaving the door open.] 

The stage remains empty for a few seconds. Then 
the front door is opened with a latch-key. major 
TOMPKINS enters. He is a fine, well-set-up man, with 
a military bearing; a ruddy face with white hair and 
moustache. He wears a frock coat, tightly buttoned, 
silk hat, and a single eye-glass. He carries gloves 
and a walking-stick. He looks into the room, and his 
eyes fasten on the remains of the tea. He looks out 
and up and down the stairs and passage; then enters 
the room, humming an air. Hurriedly he empties the 
remainder of the biscuits, together with the cake, into 
his hat. This done, still humming and with a jaunty 
step, he makes for the door. But as he reaches it: 

There re-enters mrs. sharpe.] 

MAJOR 

Ah, Mrs. Sharpe, good afternoon. And how is 
Mrs. Sharpe this afternoon? 

I29] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

Quite well, thank you, Major Tompkins. 

MAJOR 

Delighted !— delighted ! 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She glances at the table, and takes in the facts. 
She closes the door with a click, and stands in front 
of it. She makes a quick movement to try to see into 
the hat. By exceeding nimhleness he frustrates her..] 
Won't you put your hat down, Major? 

MAJOR 

I thank you, Mrs. Sharpe, but I'm rather in a hurry. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[With sudden fierceness.] And so am I — for 
thirty-six pounds eighteen shillings and fourpence. 
Which unless you pay me by twelve o'clock to-morrow 
I intend to sue you for in the County Court. And 
that before we are either of us a week older. 

MAJOR 

Let us be business-like. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Most happy. 

l30l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

You can sue me, Mrs. Sharpe, and you won't get so 
much as a damned penny. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Perhaps not; perhaps yes. 

MAJOR 

I propose to you, Mrs. Sharpe, that you accept my 
bill for one hundred pounds at three months. By 
which date the chances are that my daughter will be 
Mrs. Joseph Wright, and that I shall be in a position 
to meet it. 

MRS. SHARPE 

And meanwhile I am to go on keeping you all three. 

MAJOR 

[Shrugs his shoulders.] I put it to you as a gam- 
ble. [Close to her — confidential.] Mr. Wright has 
made my daughter a formal offer of marriage. Vivian 
hesitates a little. It is natural. But she has sense. 
She will listen to her old father's advice, [with a 
chuckle] especially seeing i>t will be to her own advan- 
tage. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Hardly to her advantage paying your debts. 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

[He seats himself at the table.] Hardly to her ad- 
vantage allowing it to appear in all the papers that her 
father is being sued for board and lodging. Family 
pride, Mrs. Sharpe — there is such a thing as family 
pride. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Yielding.] Well, only mind 



MAJOR 

[He has taken out his pocket-book and his pen.] 
A business man, Mrs. Sharpe, is always prepared for 

business. Let me see, to-day is [He is filling 

in the bill.] 

[VIVIAN has entered unobserved. She is in walk- 
ing-dress. She is a tall, handsome girl, dark, with 
strong but finely cut features; dark, passionate eyes; 
and bears towards all things a weary, mocking man- 
ner.] 

VIVIAN 

[She looks from one to the other; closes door.] 
And if I don't? 

MAJOR 

My dear ! 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

VIVIAN 

Oh, let us talk plainly. [She crosses, taking off her 
hat, etc.] You are persuading Mrs. Sharpe to bet on 
the chance of my accepting Mr. Joseph Wright's 
clammy and, generally speaking, not over-clean hand. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Well, to be candid, Miss Tompkins, I don't see any 
other hope myself of my ever getting my money. 

MAJOR 

And to be equally candid with everybody, nor more 
do I. 

VIVIAN 

I should risk it, Mrs. Sharpe. I think you will win. 

HAJOR 

Mrs. Sharpe, you hear. You 



VIVIAN 

Of course, there is the possibility that in some mo- 
ment of self-respect I may be tempted to tell him how 
the mere touch of him is loathsome to me. 

MAJOR 

Vivian ! My dear ! 

VIVIAN 

I merely mention it that everything may be quite 
[33] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

fair. Mrs. Sharpe will judge for herself whether in 
the end I am more likely to be influenced by self-re- 
spect or self-interest. 

MAJOR 

[IVhispers.] A little fretful. But plenty of sense. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She has decided to chance it.] Mind, if it isn't 
met 

MAJOR 

It shall be met, Mrs. Sharpe, on the honour of a 
soldier. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Putting the bill in her pocket.] I'm putting my 
trust more in Miss Vivian. 

[She goes out.] 

MAJOR 

[He answers her with a pleasant laugh and a wave 
of the hand. Then he turns to his daughter.] My 

dear child, I cannot tell you [She is carrying 

his hat towards the window.] What are you doing? 
Vivian ! [She opens the window and flings the con- 
tents of the hat into the street.] How dare you! 
Damn your infernal Impudence! How dare youl 

[34] 



The Passing of the Thkd Floor Back 

[Having closed the window, she faces him. The blus- 
ter falls from him.] The wastefulness — the wicked 
wastefulness! [She hands him the empty hat.] Rob- 
bing your own father to fling it to the mere street 
brats! Look at 'em! — look at 'em! [She hands him 
his stick and gloves. Again he collapses, and taking 
them, goes towards the door.] My one weakness: a 
nibble of something sweet with the last glass — just 
before going to bed. [From tears again to fury.] 
And you knew it, you 

[MRS. TOMPKINS has entered with a soft step and 
smiling face. A silence.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

I thought I heard your voice. 

MAJOR 

[Snarls.] Ah, you did, did you? Yes, some of us 
have got long ears. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

One doesn't want them particularly long to hear 
you, when you are bullying a woman ! 

MAJOR 

Bullying! I? Why haven't you brought up your 
daughter to respect her father? 

[35] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Vivian, haven't I always impressed it upon you that 
it is your duty to hide the contempt you can't help 
feeling for your father ? 

MAJOR 

[Snarls.] Ah! look at her, standing there grinning 
— after all that I've done for her. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

That you 

MAJOR 

Wasn't it I who brought old Wright here ? Haven't 
I invited him to my own club — and been asked to re- 
sign myself in consequence? Don't I listen to his 

damned silly stories? 

» 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

And borrow half-crowns from him. 

MAJOR 

It all helps. It makes him feel one of the family. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

The family don't get many of them. 

MAJOR 

Don't! Who keeps both of you — in luxury? 
[36I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Mrs. Sharpe! 

MAJOR 

Mrs. Sharpe! You throw that in my teeth, you; 
when your own father died bankrupt. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Why did you swindle him? 

MAJOR 

Who swindled him? 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

You ! Didn't you take all my money ? 

MAJOR 

Your money ! Who cheated 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Who stole 



MAJOR 

Who 



[joey WRIGHT has entered, a man of a little over 60 
perhaps, with the face and figure of Silenus: a leering, 
blear-eyed, perspiring person. He speaks always in a 
hoarse whisper; wears extravagant clothes and a 
quantity of jewellery.] 

[37] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[In a moment the major and MRS. tompkins are all 
smiles and smirks.] 

MAJOR 

Ah ! and how is 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Good after 



WRIGHT 

[He waves them aside.] Finish it out — finish it 
out. Don't let me spoil sport. Only looked in to ask 
Miss Vivian if she wouldn't come to the theatre with 
me this evening. Got a box for the Gaiety. [He 
goes to her; she moves a step away.] 

MAJOR 

Delighted, I'm sure. [He is making frantic signs 
to VIVIAN.] The dear child will be delighted. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

You'll be able to wear your new frock, dear. 

VIVIAN 

Thanks. I'm not feeling particularly inclined for 
the theatre to-night. 

MAJOR 

Not even with the little supper — the little supper 
[38] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

afterwards at the Savoy? [He is winking at joey 

WRIGHT. ] 
WRIGHT 

You might come. You never will. Shall begin to 
think you don't like me. 

VIVIAN 

[Turns and looks at him, and as she turns away 
again she hesitates.] TU think it over. 

WRIGHT 

[He looks round at the parents questioningly.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[Whispers to him.] That'll be all right. 

MAJOR 

You have the cab ready waiting at the door. 

W^RIGHT 

[He nods his understanding.] That's all I came 
for. Sorry to have interrupted. [He goes out.] 

[The MAJOR carefully closes the door, vivian has 
taken up her hat.] 

MAJOR 

Well, what are you going to do? 
I39] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

VIVIAN 

" Think it over " — for myself and by myself. [Her 
eyes are blazing. \ 
[A silence.] 

MAJOR 

[Looks at VIVIAN, then at his wife.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[They speak in low tones.] Perhaps we shall only 
irritate her. 

MAJOR 

Plain enough where she gets her damned obstinacy 
from. [He flings out of the room.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[Following. The quarrel continues up the stairs.] 
Yes. rd be sorry to think that she took after you. 
Eh, what do you say ? 

[VIVIAN crosses, carrying her hat and cloak. The 
shaft of sunlight has grown stronger. Catching her 
eyes, it causes her to pause. She stands a moment 
looking at it. A faint smile comes. She then lays 
down what she is carrying, and stretching out hef 
hands, warms them childishly in the light. Thus she 
is standing, her face uplifted to the light, when 
CHRISTOPHER enters. 

[40I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[CHRISTOPHER takes her outstretched hands, and in 
silence they stand just within the doorway, illumined 
by the sun. After a while he releases her hands and 
closes the door. The room darkens. She lets her 
hands fall by her side, and moves away. ] 

CHRISTOPHER 

I crossed the old folks on the stairs. [Latighs.] 
I thought you might be here. 

VIVIAN 

I was just going up to dress. 

CHRISTOPHER 

There's no hurry, is there? 

VIVIAN 

Yes. 

CHRISTOPHER 

Why? 

VIVIAN 

My future husband may be coming back. 
[A silence.] 

CHRISTOPHER 

You have made up your mind ? 

VIVIAN 

[She nods. ] What else is to be done ? 
[41] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

CHRISTOPHER 

Vivian, listen. Artists do make money — ^heaps of 
money. 

VIVIAN 

After how many years ? We would both be old. 

CHRISTOPHER 

[An evil look in his face. ] There are pictures peo- 
ple will buy and pay well for. I can knock them off 
quickly. They don't want Art. 

VIVIAN 

Ah ! don't. It was why I loved you. You seemed 
to me the only human creature with a soul I'd ever 
met. Let me respect you. 

CHRISTOPHER 

I don*t want your respect. I want you. [He 
seises her. The passion is in his eyes.] 

VIVIAN 

Hark ! Go ! 

CHRISTOPHER 

Vivian! You must — you shall. 

VIVIAN 

Don't be a fool. [She frees herself from him.] 
Do you want to sink to my level? 

\42] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

CHRISTOPHER 

Yes. I tell you I want you. I 

[There enters harry larkcom, about five-and- 
twenty, a cheerful young bounder, loudly dressed. 
He carries about him the atmosphere of the music- 
hall. With him jape samuels, an older man, a Jew 
of the most objectionable type, now oily, now aggres- 
sive. His dress is that of the city man. vivian 
collects her belongings and moves to go out. lark- 
com, the low comedian of the house, opens the door 
for her, bowing with hand on heart, samuels kisses 
his hand after her. She goes out. larkcom closes 
the door, and they both turn round with a laugh. 
CHRISTOPHER has notictd, bit his lip, and turned 
away.] 

SAMUELS 

How are you getting on? 

CHRISTOPHER 

I have begun them. You shall have them by the 
end of next week. 

SAMUELS 

Good man. Get you another job when they're done. 
Keep them thpithy. You know what I mean: don't 
watht too much paint on the clothe. [Laughs.] 

[43l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

CHRISTOPHER 

I quite understand. Thank you — very much. [He 
goes out.] 

SAMUELS 

Don't mention it. [He kicks the door to after him. 
Turns to larkcom.] Keep him up to it. I can thell 
ath many ath he can paint of the thort at twithe what 
I pay him. Tell you what I want you to do for me. 

LARKCOM 

[He is unlocking the tantalus, with a key from his 
own pocket.] Found it out by accident. Fits it hke 
a glove. [They laugh.] See that the old girl ain't 
coming. 

SAMUELS 

[He peeps out, closes the door again.] It'th all 
right. I want you to take old Wright out to lunth 
next Wednethday at Romanoth. [He thrusts his face 
forward with his finger at the side of his nose.] And 
don't be thingy with the drinkth. 

LARKCOM 

[Laughs.] 

SAMUELS 

Put him in a cab afterwardth and bring him up to 
[44] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

my little plathe in the thity. We'll have everything 
jutht ready for him to thign. 

LARKCOM 

You don't think he's a bit too fly ? 

SAMUELS 

[The finger to the nose again.] Have a girl with 
you. 

LARKCOM 

You are a rare old gimlet, you are. [Has prepared 
what he thinks to he two whiskies-and-water. He 
hands one to Samuels.] 

SAMUELS 

Got to be up to a trick or two in thith world if you 
don't want to be left. [They have clicked glasses. 
They now take their first pull.] What ith it? 

[They look at one another with wry faces.] 

LARKCOM 

Some muck she's got for palming off upon old Joey 
when he's drunk. 

SAMUELS 

Old thief ! 

LARKCOM 

Makes you lose your faith in human nature, don't 
[45] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

it ? [He crams the half -empty tumblers into the side- 
hoard. ] 

[stasia has entered from the other room. Her 
business for the next fern minutes is clearing the tea- 
table. ] 

Hello, what price the belle of Bloomsbury! [He 
makes to embrace her. She slaps his face.] All right. 
Now you don't have what I was going to give you. 

STASIA 

That'll save trouble all round. 

SAMUELS 

[Laughs.] 

LARKCOM 

Save you the trouble of living up to them. [Pro- 
duces from his pocket a box, opens it, and displays a 
pair of cheap, gaudy earrings.] Emeralds. 

STASIA 

Real old bottle glass. 

LARKCOM 

[He appeals to samuels.] Ain't they real emer- 
alds? 

SAMUELS 

[Examines them, with the air of an expert.] Four- 
[46] 



The Passing of the Thh-d Floor Back 

teen carat. Thall be upthairth if you want me. [He 
goes out.] 

LARKCOM 

[He thrusts the earrings again under her nose.] 
Knock at my door, softly, about ten o'clock to-night, 
if you feel you want 'em. [Snaps the case. Winks. 
Goes out.] 

[stasia goes into the other room; is heard laying 
the table.] 

[Enter mrs. sharpe. She goes to the sideboard. 
Her business is the taking of wine-glasses and arrang- 
ing them on a tray. The folding doors are partly 
open. ] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Her back is to the dining-room. She holds up one 
by one the glasses to the light; polishes them when 
need be with her pocket-handkerchief.] Is that you, 
Stasia ? 

STASIA 

That's me. 

MRS. SHARPE 

What are you doing? 

[47] 



The Passing of the Thkd Floor Back 

STASIA 

Lying the table for dinner. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Have you taken up ever}^body their hot water ? 

STASIA 

Yus. I've taken them up their 'ot water — all the 
rotten lot of them. 

MRS. SHARPE 

What do you mean? — "All the rotten lot of them "? 

STASIA 

Well, so they are. Young Christopher Penny! I 
did think 'e was a cut above the others. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Umph ! What's he doing ? 

STASIA 

Painting pictures. Got an order for a dozen. I 
told 'im straight. " You tike care the police don't see 
'em," I says, " if the others are going to be like that." 

MRS. SHARPE 

[With the snort that does duty for her laugh.] As 
bad as all that ? 

[48] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

STASIA 

Somebody's put 'im up to it. Old Wright, I 
shouldn't wonder — old beast ! 

MRS. SHARPE 

That'll do — that'll do. Don't you be so free with 
your tongue. 

STASIA 

Well, so 'e is ; wanting to marry a girl young enough 
to be his daughter. She's no better. She's going to 
sell 'erself all right enough. 

MRS. SHARPE 

How do you know ? 

STASIA 

Just called me in to help 'er on with 'er new frock. 
You know : the one without any neck and arms. She's 
going out to the theatre with 'im. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Glad to hear it. 

STASIA 

Ah! they're a rotten lot, all of them. There's old 
" Darby and Joan " been jawing at each other ever 
since 'e come in, calling each other every name under 
the sun. Then there's Jew-boy Samuels planning it 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

with young Larkcom 'ow to swindle everybody. Didn't 
know I was in the next room a-listening. D'ye 'ear 
old Kite slanging me just now? 

MRS. SHARPE 

Yes. What was it about ? 

STASIA 

Oh! 'cos I went in without knocking — caught 'er 
with the paint-pot in 'er 'and. Old 'Ooley's another 
of 'em, makes me sick — ^practising court curtseys in 
front of the looking-glass all to 'erself — old fool! 
Got those glasses ready ? 

MRS. SHARPE 

Yes, they're ready. 

STASIA 

[Entering.] We're no better, you know, you and 
me. You're an old thief. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Speechless.] A thief ! What do you 

STASIA 

So you are. So am I — and wuss. What's the good 
of us all, that's what I want to know? What's the 
good of us? 

[50] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Repeating helplessly.] What's the good of us? 

STASIA 

[She has put down the tray again which she at first 
had taken up. She comes down and faces mrs. 
SHARPE.] What's the use of us ? What's the good of 
us to ourselves or to anybody else ? What 

[There comes a knock at the street door — one sin- 
gle, clear, distinctive knock. It sounds mysteriously, 
coming so unexpectedly into the darkening room. 
MRS. SHARPE and STASIA hoth start, and stand a mo- 
ment looking at one another.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

What was that? 

STASIA 

Somebody knocking at the door. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Who can it be? 

[The knock is repeated.] 

It must be some beggar. 

STASIA 

P'raps it's a visitor. 

[51] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

A visitor? What sort of visitor would 

[The knock is again repeated.] 

STASIA 

Seems determined to come in. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Go and see who it is. 

[stasia goes out, closing the door behind her.] 

[MRS. SHARPE, puzzlcd at the passing of the time, 
goes to the keyhole; peeps through; returns to her 
glasses; goes to the keyhole again — listens; the handle 
turns. MRS. SHARPE darts away just in time. 

[stasia re-enters. She closes the door and stands 
smiling — at nothing in particular.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

Well? What are you grinning at? 

stasia 

Nothin'. [But still she stands smiling.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

What's the matter with you ? Who is it ? 
[52J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

STASIA 

'E*s come about the room. 

MRS. SHARPE 

The room! What — Did you put up that card, in 
spite of my telling you not to? 

STASIA 

Yus. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[A movement of impatience.] What's he like? 

STASIA 

'E ain't the usual sort. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Thank God for that. Is he a gentleman ? 

STASIA 

[She sterns to he in a dream.] I dunno. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Again a movement of impatience.] Young or old? 

STASIA 

Still with the same exasperating, dreamy smile.] 
I dunno. 

[53] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

Ah, you fool! Show him in. [She arranges her 
cuffs, straightens her cap.] 

STASIA 

[Opens the door.] Come in. 

[The STRANGER enters; a slightly stooping figure, 
clothes — if one look at them closely — somewhat 
shabby, the long coat somewhat old-fashioned. His 
hat, his staff, quaintly suggestive of the days of pil- 
grimage. What age he might be it would be dijficidt 
to say; there are moments when the deep eyes woidd 
seem to speak of many sorrows. But more often — and 
always when he smiles — it is a face radiant with youth. 
In some mysterious way he brings into the room with 
him an atmosphere of dignity. Yet there is nothing 
"important" about the stranger. // there be any- 
thing great about him, it lies in his simplicity, his gen- 
tleness. He bows to mrs. sharpe. It is the simplest 
of courtesies, yet one fails to see how it could express 
more were she the daughter of a hundred earls. And 
MRS. sharpe, returning the bow, becomes, for the mo- 
ment, a lady.] 



X 



the stranger 
Good afternoon. 

[54] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

Good afternoon. You have called about a room? 
[She has clothed herself in her most ladylike tones 
and manners.] 

THE STRANGER 

Your little maid tells me there is one vacant. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Yes. There does happen to be just one. You can 
go, Stasia. 

[stasia goes to take up her tray — the stranger 
interposes.] 

THE STRANGER 

[To MRS. SHARPE.] May I? It is so heavy. 

[He carries out the tray, stasia stares after him 
open-mouthed. Then at mrs. sharpe, who is also 
staring. ] 

the STRANGER 

[Returning — to stasia.] I have placed it on the 
table. Was that right? 

MRS. SHARPE 

Quite right. [To stasia, who is on her way out.] 
Shut the door after you. 

[55] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[stasia, as in a dream, goes out. Closes the door.] 
Won't you be seated? 

THE STRANGER 

Thank you. [One of the easy-chairs stands by the 
table. He pushes it nearer the fire.] Will you take 
this chair? 

MRS. SHARPE 

{Who is not used to having chairs offered her, ac- 
cepts it somewhat awkwardly.] Thank you. [She 
sits stiffly.] 

[The STRANGER crosscs, seats himself the other side 
of the fire. The twilight is deepening. The red glow 
from the fire illumines their faces.] 

THE STRANGER 

[Smiling.] Now we can talk business. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She bows. To bow frequently and very stiffly is 
one of her ideas of high-class manners.] To begin 
with — you will excuse the question, I'm sure — but 
[she is eyeing critically his clothes] what are you ? 

THE STRANGER 

I — am a wanderer. 

[56I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

You mean a traveller ? 

THE STRANGER 

[Accepts the correction.] A traveller. 

MRS. SHARPE 

For pleasure? 

THE STRANGER 

For pleasure. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She looks at him again; it is a puzzling problem.] 
You see, I have to be perhaps a little particular. My 
clientele is drawn, as a rule, from the higher middle- 
classes. [The STRANGER givcs his grave attention.] 
At the present moment I have staying v^ith me the 
cousin to a baronet. Representing capital, we have 
Mr. Samuels, the great silver-mine proprietor. We 
have also a retired Major and family — highly con- 
nected. Mr. Penny, the eminent artist — you may have 
heard of him 

THE STRANGER 

I live so out of the world. 

MRS. SHARPE 

— Has his studio at the top of the house. My first 
[57] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

floor is occupied by an exceedingly wealthy man — for 
years a prominent figure in the sporting world. In- 
deed, I may say that all our little circle are persons of 
more or less distinction. 

THE STRANGER 

It will be a privilege to meet them. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She flashes a suspicious glance, hut encounters 
only his eyes of grave sincerity. ] My charges, as you 
will understand, are of necessity a little more than 
those of the common boarding-house. 

THE STRANGER 

That is only to be expected. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Bows.] For the room I have to ofiFer you: a 
charming apartment on the — just above the second 
floor ; together with full board, consisting of 

THE STRANGER 

[He smiles away the details.] Of everything that 
is needful. It goes without saying. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Bows again.] I usually ask two pounds ten a 
week. [He may he ahoiit to speak; she waves him 
hack into patience.] To you, seeing you — [she can- 

[58] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

not think of any other reason] — are a traveller — 
[zvith a burst of generosity] — we'll say two pounds. 

THE STRANGER 

But is that quite fair? 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Ready for battle.] Fair! 

THE STRANGER 

To you. I am not a rich man — as you, with your 
quick woman's sympathy, have divined. But I have 
sufficient. I can afford to pay you your proper price. 

MRS. SHARPE 

The two pounds will be quite satisfactory. 

THE STRANGER 

You are sure? 

MRS. SHARPE 

Quite sure. 

THE STRANGER 

It is very kind of you — very kind indeed. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Again the bow.] Gas, of course, will be an extra. 

THE STRANGER 

Of course. 

[59] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

Coals 

THE STRANGER 

[Again he smiles away her details.] We shall not 
quarrel. You have been so very considerate as it is, I 
feel I can leave myself entirely in your hands. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Well, I always try to be fair, and [She looks 

up and meets his gaze full upon her; an embarrassed 
silence falls upon her.] Do you ever get taken in — 
cheated ? 

THE STRANGER 

[Smiling.] Sometimes — by cheats. 
[A silence.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

How do you know I'm not one ? 

THE STRANGER 

We old travellers — it is a conceit of ours that we 
can tell ladies and gentlemen from cheats. 

MRS. SHARPE 

You think a lodging-house keeper can be a lady ? 

THE STRANGER 

Why not? 

[60] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

No, I suppose there's no reason. In my own case, 
as it happens, I really am a lady. 

THE STRANGER 

You see, I was right. 

MRS. SHARPE 

My late husband was a solicitor. I used to have 
my At Homes in this very room — on third Fridays. 

THE STRANGER 

And it is the third Friday of the month to-day. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Why, so it is. I had forgotten. [Remembering, 
becomes the landlady again.] Would you like to go 
up to your room now? We dine at six-thirty. [She 
rises.] 

THE STRANGER 

[Rising.] Thank you. That will just give me time. 

MRS. SHARPE 

I'll just see first that everything [He has 

taken up his hat and stick, and is moving towards the 
door. She pauses.] Did I say two pounds a week? 
[Something is worrying her; it causes her to speak in 
an angry, aggressive tone.] 

[6il 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

It should have been two pounds ten. You were 
kind enough to reduce it 

MRS. SHARPE 

I must have been thinking of some other room. It 
should have been one pound ten. 

THE STRANGER 

[Stops.] Then I decline to take it. The two 
pounds I can well afford. 

MRS. SHARPE 

One pound ten are my terms. If you are bent 
on paying more, you can go elsewhere. You'll find 
plenty to oblige you. 

THE STRANGER 

[He looks at her.] Women are so wilful. [Smil- 
ing] And you kind women are the worst of all. 
[He has taken her hand. She laughs.] 

[They go out.] 

[stasia enters by the folding doors. She goes to 
sideboard; takes front a drawer some napkins; brings 
them to the table. She forgets them, stands idly by 
the table gazing out of the window, mrs. sharpe re- 
enters. STASIA, dreaming, neither sees nor hears her. 

t62l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE Stands for awhile looking at her, A new 
look has come into mrs. sharpens face, a new note 
in her voices a new spirit has stolen into the house.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

What are you looking at ? 

STASIA 

[She wakes with a start.] Nothin'. [Begins fold- 
ing the napkins.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She comes nearer; looks again at the little pale 
face.] Like to put on your hat — get a breath of fresh 
air before dinner? 

STASIA 

[Stares.] D'ye mean it? 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Takes the napkins quietly from her.] I'll finish 
laying the table. Don't be too long. 

STASIA 

[She is off; half-way to the door something sud- 
denly stops her.] Sure you can spare me? 

MRS. SHARPE 

That'll be all right. 

I63I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

STASIA 

I won't be long. [She runs swiftly out.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She goes on folding up the napkins. Then she, 
too, forgets them. They fall from her hand. A 
smile gradually breaks over the old face, strangely 
altering it; she, too, seems to he falling into a way 
of dreaming.] " And you kind women are the worst 
of all." [She whispers the words, the while her up- 
lifted face becomes transformed with a great tender- 
ness as towards all things.] 

THE CURTAIN FALLS 



r&4i 



CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY 



Joey Wright 

Christopher Penny 

Major Tompkins 

Mrs. Tompkins 

Vivian 

Jape Samuels . 

Harry Lark com 

Miss Kite 

Mrs. Percival de Hooley 

Stasia 

Mrs. Sharpe 

The Third Floor Back. 



A Retired Bookmaker. 

A Painter. 

Retired. 

His Wife. 

His Daughter. 

Of the City. 

His Jackal. 

Unattached. 

Cousin to Sir George 

Tweedle, Bart. 
The Slavey. 
The Landlady. 



[^1 



THE PLAY 

SCENE 

The same. It is dark. A faint glow from the fire 
intensifies the shadows. The light from the dining- 
room outlines the folding doors. The light from 
the street lamps without struggles faint and mysteri- 
ous through the windows. The two easy-chairs 
have been placed one each side of the fire. 

[stasia enters; leaves the door open behind her. 
The light from the passage lifts a little the darkness 
of the room. She strikes a match, climbs upon a 
chair and lights the three branches of the gaselier. 
And the room takes three strides into feeble light. 
An improvement has taken place in stasia's appear- 
ance. Her hair is tidier, her face and hands cleaner.'] 

[A sound as of a sudden burst of talking after a 
silence is heard from the next room, stasia stands 
a moment listening; it dies. She crosses to the win- 
dows, pulls down the blinds, arranges the curtains. \ 

C671 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[VIVIAN comes in. She is in evening dress, some'' 
what decollete.^ 

VIVIAN 

Haven't they finished dinner yet? 

STASIA 

[She goes to the folding doors and peeps through 
the keyhole.] They're a-toying with the dessert. 
Why didn't you come down? Off your feed? [Her 
voice has changed — has taken to itself a childish note.] 

VIVIAN 

[Who has seated herself in one of the easy-chairs.] 
I had a headache. [She has taken an illustrated pa- 
per from the table.] 

STASIA 

Going out to the theatre, ain't you? 

VIVIAN 

Yes. 

STASIA 

With the old 'un? 

VIVIAN 

Will you kindly mind your own business ? 

STASIA 

Suppose I oughtn't to blime you. [She speaks more 
[681 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

to herself than to vivian, who, glancing through her 
paper, appears to take no notice.] We've all of us 
got to live — somehow. [Aloud] You ain't seen the 
new lodger? 

VIVIAN 

Oh ! Is there a new lodger? 

STASIA 

Came this evening, just before dinner. [There is 
something in stasia's voice which causes vivian to 
glance round at her.] 

VIVIAN 

[She turns again to her paper.] What's he like? 

STASIA 

[She comes to vivian.] This ain't all the world, is 
it? 

VIVIAN 

[Looking up.] What do you mean? 

STASIA 

Us sort. [With a gesture.] All a-lyin' and 
a-cheatin' and a-snarlin' — despisin' one another — and 
ourselves. Ain't there anything else? 

[A silence.] 

I69] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

VIVIAN 

Yes. There are sweet thoughts. And fine feehngs. 
And self-respect. [She turns to stasia.] But such 
things, Stasia, are only for rich folk. 

STASIA 

[She goes slowly towards the door.] Bit 'ard on 
us poor. [Goes out.] 

[VIVIAN drops her paper; sits staring into the fire a 
few moments. The folding doors open, letting in the 
sound from the dining-room. mrs. major tompkins 
enters and closes the door behind her. She is dressed 
quietly and effectively. With her entrance the at- 
mosphere changes.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Hovv^'s your headache ? 

VIVIAN 

I think it v^ill be all right. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

You didn't miss much. I could have eaten ati 
artichoke. Of course your father grabs the dish and 
clears the lot. You know, you can afford to show a 
bit more shoulder. [She goes to rearrange the girl's 
dress.l 

[70] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

VIVIAN 

[Shrinking away.] Don't, please. I hate being 
mauled. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Funny girl you are! If you can't bear your own 
mother 

VIVIAN 

It's only this evening. I'm feeling irritable. [Her 
eyes still on the paper.] What's the new lodger like? 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Don't like him. 

VIVIAN 

Why not? 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

I can't explain it. He makes you feel uncomfort- 
able. [Resentfully] His mere presence in the 

room [She is at table choosing a paper, her back 

to the dining-room.] 

[The folding doors have opened. Miss kite, fol- 
lowed by MRS. DE HOOLEY, is entering: miss kite in 
what she herself would call a " killing " costume; MRS. 
DE HOOLEY in " scmi "-toilette.] 

\n\ 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

VIVIAN 

Quick ! — quick ! 

[MRS. TOMPKINS Understands, but reaches the only 
remaining easy-chair a second behind the kite 
woman, who slips down into it triumphant, mrs. 
TOMPKINS, giving her a "look," passes on with osten- 
tatious indifference, and seats herself near the table.] 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[Taking a chair by vivian.] So sorry to hear of 
your headache. 

VIVIAN 

It's better now. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

So glad. You haven't seen our new guest ? 

VIVIAN 

I have been hearing about him. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

He reminds me so of somebody I've met some- 
where. [She thinks a moment. ] Long ago. 

MISS KITE 

Well, so far as I can understand, she picked him 
up out of the street ; not even a reference. 

\72] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Do you mean that she has dared to introduce among 
ladies and gentlemen 

MISS KITE 

My dear, a mere passer-by. 

MRS. TOMPXINS 

I thought there was something very wrong about 
him. 

MISS KITE 

We don't know who he may be. 

[jape SAMUELS has entered from the dining-room 
closing the door behind him. He is smoking a fat 
cigar. He wears evening-dress — dinner-jacket — and 
one enormous diamond stud.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[To jape.] What do you think of him? 

SAMUELS 

[He is at table selecting a paper, his back to the 
others.] Of the latetht addition to our little menad- 
therie? Well, to begin with, he'th not my idea of a 
thentleman. 

[73] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MISS KITE 

Looks to me as if he'd got money. [She winks at 
MRS. TOMPKINS, who smiles back.] 

SAMUELS 

[Turns sharply.] Why? What makth you think 
that? 

MISS KITE 

I don't know. He gives me that impression. 

SAMUELS 

Dethent enough thort of a chap, I darethay, in all 
other rethpecth. We can't help what we are born. 
[He has the "Evening Standard" (white), "Globe" 
(pink), and "Westminster" (green), in his hand. 
He places them one inside the other, so that only the 
" Standard " shows. He sits near the table. ] 

[Then enter the major and wright, arm-in-arm, 
followed by larkcom. wright is in evening-dress, 
gorgeous with jewellery; the major is also in evening- 
dress; larkcom wears his check suit, larkcom 
closes the door and joins samuels. wright and the 
MAJOR are laughing — the major boisterously, wright 
voicelessly. wright has been telling the major a 
smutty ^^0^3;.] 

[74I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

Best story IVe ever heard ! " She'd taken them 
with her." [Laughs again and digs him in the ribs.] 
I must remember that one. 

VIVIAN 

[At entrance of her father she crosses to the desk, 
where she seats herself, her back to the room, and 
writes or pretends to write a letter.] 

[The moment she vacates the chair, mrs. de 
HOOLEY rises to take it but larkcom darts across and 
flings himself into it just in front of her.] 

larkcom 

Won by a neck. [Laughs at her, settles himself, 
and takes out his pipe, which he fills and lights.] 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[She bestows disdain upon larkcom ; then goes to 
small work-table, fetches her work-basket and brings 
it to the table, where she sits within whispering dis- 
tance of miss kite.] 

MAJOR 

[Crosses to table and turns over the papers.] Any- 
body seen the "Globe"? [To samuels] What pa- 
per have you got ? 

[75] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

SAMUELS 

[Shows him the outside one.] Thtandard. 

MAJOR 

Where the devil has the "Globe" got to? [He 

goes on tour of discovery.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[She touches wright, zvho has taken the chair 
vacated by mrs. de hooley.] She'll be ready in a 
few minutes. What do you think of the new boarder ? 

WRIGHT 

[Shakes his head.] Not my fancy. 

larkcom 

[Turning to wright.] He's got no conversation — 
not what / call conversation. 

MAJOR 

I found him a fool. [He has rummaged among 
the music on the piano — glanced in passing at the 
desk. ] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[ With a laugh. ] Yes, I noticed you and he seemed 
to be getting on very well together. 

[stasia has entered, more or less unnoticed. She 
brings the coffee in on tray.] 

[76] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

STASIA 

[She stops first in front of mrs. tompkins.] Kau- 
fee. 

[MRS. TOMPKINS takes a cup.] 

[The MAJOR goes to table, snatches a paper and 
seats himself between the table and mrs. de hooley. 
STASIA goes her round with the coffee.] 

WRIGHT 

[To MRS. TOMPKINS.] We don*t want him here. 
Spoils the party. 

LARKCOM 

He's not our class. 

MISS KITE 

I can't make out whether he's a young man trying 
to look old, or an old man trying to look young. 

MAJOR 

I hate a man with eyes that you can't get away 
from. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[In her soft, slow voice, still dreaming.] It was a 
long time ago. 

[77] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

We must make it plain to him that he's not wanted. 

WRIGHT 

[To LARKCOM.] Yes. You're good at " chipping"' 
people. Make it uncomfortable for him. 

LARKCOM 

[Nods and laughs.] We'll have a bit of fun with 
him. 

SAMUELS 

Oh! leave him alone. He'll learn our wayth all 
right. 

[CHRISTOPHER hos entered.] 

CHRISTOPHER 

Unless we first learn his. 

[viviAN, who has been listening, turns round.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Learn his! [Snorts indignantly.] 

MAJOR 

[With a snort — under his breath.] Young puppy! 

[kite has looked round, larkcom smokes, jape 
has glanced up. weight gives vent to a feeble sneer. 
HOOLEY is still dreaming.] 

[78) 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

VIVIAN 

[stasia has just reached her with the coffee.] No, 
thank you. 

STASIA 

Gar on. Do your 'eadache good. 

VIVIAN 

{She looks at her and smiles; then takes it.] Do 
you mind getting me my cloak? It's on the bed. 
Sure you don't mind ? 

STASIA 

Not when you speak like that. [She goes out.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Are you ready, dear? 

VIVIAN 

Yes. [Rises.] Stasia has just gone for my cloak. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[Rising.] You'll take care of her. 

WRIGHT 

[Who has risen.] That's all right. 

MAJOR 

[Rises.] That's all right. He'll take care of our 
little girl for us. [He turns to his wife.] 

\79l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[vTViAN has come down, wright is standing near 
io her.] 

MAJOR 

[He indicates them with a wave of the hand. The 
fond tears are in his voice.] May and — July. 

LARKCOM 

{He springs up, and with half a dozen steps is at 
the piano. He thunders out Mendelssohn's Wedding 
March.] 

[the major, beaming, heats time with his hand 
and his head, samuels has risen and moved round to 
the top of the table to look for new papers. Chris- 
topher is also selecting a paper, stasia has re-en- 
tered, with Vivian's cloak, wright takes the cloak 
from stasia, and puts it over Vivian's shoulders. 
MRS. sharpe enters. A screen of people has thus 
been formed, shutting off Vivian's view. Behind it 
the stranger, unnoticed, has entered. As vivian 
turns to go out with wright, the stranger stands 
before her. The quiet eyes are fixed on her — those 
eyes that seem to have seen all the sorrows of the 
world, great and little. The cloak falls from her 
shoulders to the floor about her feet. And a silence 
has also entered. The Wedding March dies away ] 

[80] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[Who sees only vivian rooted to the ground.] 
What's the matter? 

VIVIAN 

[She turns her eyes to her mother.] I am sorry. 
I cannot — I shall not be able to go to-night. 

MAJOR 

But, my dear ! 

VIVIAN 

[She turns again, her eyes upon the stranger.] 
I can't !— I can't ! 

THE STRANGER 

[He passes on.] 

VIVIAN 

I'm sorry. [To v^right.] Some other evening. 
[Stooping swiftly, she picks up her cloak, wraps it 
tightly round her as one who is cold, and with bowed 
head passes hurriedly from the room.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

It's the heat of the room. She hasn't been well 
all day. [To the major.] Don't you come. [She 

follows VIVIAN out.] 

181} 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

It is a bit close in here. Shall we have the window 
open ? 

MISS KITE 

/ should like it. 

STASIA 

I'll see to it. [She opens one of the windows, after- 
wards taking up the tray she had left on the desk. 
She goes out.] 

[SAMUELS, haznng selected a newspaper, has re- 
seated himself.] 

MAJOR 

[To WRIGHT.] Poor girl! She'll be so disap- 
pointed. 

[WRIGHT answers with a snarl.] 

MAJOR 

[Coaxingly.] Play you fifty up. Then we'll see 
how she is. Can we have the table, Mrs. Sharpe? 

MRS. SHARPE 

Certainly. I'll go and get it ready for /ou. 
[She goes out.] 

[82] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

Ah, thank you. [Taking Wright's arm, he leads 
him out.] Troublesome creatures, these girls! — trou- 
blesome creatures ! Yet what could we do without 

them? What could we do [He closes the door 

behind them.] 

[CHRISTOPHER crossBs and sits in easy-chair by fire. 
He makes to read; but every now and again the pape> 
drops; he stares into the fire.] 

[MRS. DE HOOLEY from time to time, leaning across, 
whispers to the kite woman, who sometimes answers, 
but more often she is preoccupied, covertly watching 
THE STRANGER. LARKCOM has remained silent, watch- 
ing events.] 

THE STRANGER 

How well you play ! 

LARKCOM 

[He swings round on his stool] Hullo! — you 

there, old cockerlor [He encounters the 

stranger's eyes. Somehow they put him out of 
countenance.] Think so? 

the stranger 

You have the touch of one who loves music. 
[83] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

LARKCOM 

Here. [He rises, grins up into the stranger's 
face.] What's the little game? Want to borrow 
money ? 

THE STRANGER 

You see, it would be of no use. You see through 
me at once. 

LARKCOM 

[the stranger is smiling. He turns away, 
ashamed of himself.] Only my bit of fun. [By way 
of explanation] My weak spot — anybody telling me I 

know anything about music. Here of course 

[ With disgust] Ah ! All they understand is " Tumpty, 
tumpty, tum." 

THE stranger 

And so you give them — what they understand. 

LARKCOM 

Oh well! somebody's got to do something to liven 
things up a bit 

THE stranger 

Ah! yes. [He puts a hand on the lad's shoulder,] 
Some kind, good-natured body. 

LARKCOM 

Oh well ! it comes easy — and I like doing it. 
[84I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

Yes. 

LARKCOM 

[There is something about the stranger that in- 
vites confidence.] My idea was to have been an en- 
tertainer. 

the stranger 

It was a good idea. You would have succeeded, I 
am sure. 

LARKCOM 

You see, I've got a voice. 

the STRANGER 

And you have humour and a sense of fun. One 
reads it in your eyes. 

LARKCOM 

[Suspicious for an instant — till he looks into the 
stranger's eyes.] That's right. Why, sometimes — 
when I like to take the trouble — I'll have 'em all round 
me here, laughing. Not an easy crowd to start, mind 
you. 

the stranger 

It is your vocation. It would be wrong of you to 
waste your gifts. 

IBs] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

LARKCOM 

Question is, would it pay? 

THE STRANGER 

I think it would. And then, that is not the only 
question, is it? You would be giving pleasure to so 
many. 

LARKCOM 

" Giving ! " Here, don't you run away with the 
notion that Harry Larkcom is a philanthropist. 
What's it going to put into little Harry's money-box ? 
[He slaps his pocket.] Thafs the question little 
Harry always asks himself. 

THE STRANGER 

Always? Are you sure? 

LARKCOM 

Ami 

THE STRANGER 

You play them " Tumpty, tumpty, turn." Why ? 

LARKCOM 

Why ! Because 

THE STRANGER 

Does it give you any pleasure — ^you, a musician! 
Does it add anything to the "money-box"? [The 

1861 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

lad stares.] No. You do it because you are just a 
good fellow. You will have them all around you, 
laughing. Wherever you are, life shall be a little 
brighter; dull, tired faces shall be made to smile. 
You give them — so much more than money. You 
give them — yourself. Don't you call that being a 
philanthropist ? 

LARKCOM 

Of course, you can put it that way. 

THE STRANGER 

What other way ? 

LARKCOM 

I do like seeing people jolly round about me ; hear- 
ing them whispering to one another that Harry Lark- 
com's the life and Gar on! Who are you get- 
ting at? — you and your philanthropists! I just like 
their admiration and applause. That's all I do it for. 

THE STRANGER 

Their gratitude, their appreciation. Are you not 
entitled to it ? 

LARKCOM 

You are determined 



[87l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

The thanks of those you serve: that is the true 
" pay " of the artist. 

LARKCOM 

Here. Am I an artist now? 

THE STRANGER 

And the artist is always a philanthropist, serving 
his fellow-men, not only for the sake of the money- 
box. 

LARKCOM 

I wonder. My old mother always would put it that 
way. " Harry's never so happy," she would say, " as 
when he's making other people happy." 

THE STRANGER 

Ah ! she knew you. She would have been so proud 
of you. 

LARKCOM 

Well, it would be better than the sort of jobs I'm 
doing now. 

THE STRANGER 

You will forgive me. I have seen it so often. You 
artists are never content doing any other work than 
your own. All the rest is waste of time. 

[881 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

LARKCOM 

Would you mind one day my trying over one or two 
little things of my own on you ? 

THE STRANGER 

I should be delighted. 

LARKCOM 

Honour bright? 

THE STRANGER 

Honour bright! It will be pleasant — looking back 
— to think that I perhaps was of help to you in the 
beginning. 

LARKCOM 

Don't say anything about it to any of the others. 
[the STRANGER signifies understanding.] "Harry 
Larkcom — artist ! " 

THE STRANGER 

[Smiling.] And philanthropist. 

LARKCOM 

And philanthropist. [Laughs.] Good-night, in 
case I don't see you again — [holds out his hand] — 
partner. 

THE STRANGER 

Good-night, partner. 

I89I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[larkcom crosses.] 

SAMUELS 

[Stops him as he passes.] Think he'th got any 
money ? 

LARKCOM 

Oh ! you find out for yourself. 

SAMUELS 

[Rising.] Ain't you learned anything? What have 
you been talking about? 

LARKCOM 

Want to know? Art and philanthropy. [Goes out, 
slamming the door.] 

SAMUELS 

Art and ! Here, Henry. [Follows him out.] 

[MRS. DE HOOLEY has riseu and put aside her work 
in its basket on the table.] 

CHRISTOPHER 

[Rising.] Would you like this chair? 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Thank you, I should have been glad of it earlier in 

the evening. [Passes on.] 

[90] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MISS KITE 

You're not going, dear? 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Only to write a few letters. [She seats herself 
at desk, her hack to the room.] 

[CHRISTOPHER takes SAMUELS* vacoted chair at 
table; busies himself drawing sketches on the mar- 
gins of newspapers, the stranger has drawn near 
to where miss kite still sits.] 

miss kite 

[To the stranger, indicating the vacant easy-chair 
opposite to her.] Sit down. Talk to me. 

[the stranger draws the chair nearer; takes his 
seat.] 

miss kite 

I am going to make you a confession. I'm afraid 
you'll think it fearfully bold of me. [Giggles.] But, 
you know, you interest me. 

the stranger 

I am so glad. I wish so much to interest you. 
miss kite 

Now, that's a very pretty speech. I wonder if you 

really mean it. You men are so [She raises 

[91I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

her eyes, meaning to give him one of her " killing " 
glances. The stranger's quiet, grave eyes are fixed 
on her. The giggle and the gush begin to fall from 
her.] Why should you wish to interest me? 

THE STRANGER 

Because you are clever and witty. And the clever, 
witty woman can be so delightful a friend. 

[A silence.] 

MISS KITE 

[She is staring straight in front of her: a suddenly 
serious person. ] You think me clever, witty ? 

THE STRANGER 

[Smiling.] You do not agree with me? 

MISS KITE 

[Drily.] You have made the discovery on a some- 
what slight acquaintanceship. This is the first time 
we have spoken. 

THE STRANGER 

But I have had the privilege of listening. You 
should not talk before those from whom you wish to 
keep it a secret. 

MISS KITE 

I [She smiles — she cannot help it.] I did not 

[92] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

think you were listening so attentively. [She turns to 
him with sudden anxiety.] I hope you didn't think 
that I was at all — at all spiteful, in any of my re- 
marks ? 

THE STRANGER 

A little — caustic. It is a mistake witty talkers so 
often make. You could afford to do without it. 

MISS KITE 

[Looking into the fire again.] I suppose one grows 
bitter as one grows old. [Remembering herself] I 

mean, of course [the stranger's eyes confuse 

her.] 

the stranger 

But you have not even that excuse. You are not 
old. 

miss kite 

Well, I*m — [she struggles, hut the stranger's eyes 
insist upon the truth] — Vm forty. You don't call that 
young, do you? 

the stranger 

Young enough not to have forgotten the thoughts 
of youth; old enough to have learnt pity. Forty! 
Why that is a beautiful age. 

[93l 



The Passing of iHe Third Floor Back 

kiss KITE 

[She is angry with the stranger, mith herself.] 
Oh yes, I dare say. Any age, I expect, you would 
think beautiful. Perhaps you think / am beautiful. 

THE STRANGER 

[Gravely looking at her.] Yes, I think you are 
beautiful — quite beautiful. But you have one failing 
that mars it. 

MISS KITE 

[Snappishly.] Hadn't you better tell me of it? 
Pity it should be marred by just one failing. I might 
be able to correct it. 

THE STRANGER 

It is lack of vanity. [She glances suspiciously. Is 
he making game of herf] You look into your glass 
and are, quite needlessly, dissatisfied with yourself. 
It is — forgive me — so foolish of you. 

MISS KITE 

[She turns her eyes from him.] You mean you 
would like me better without the paint and the pow- 
der — and the dye. 

THE STRANGER 

I think that you yourself — I may draw the picture? 
[94] 



The Passing of the Thh«d Floor Back 

— a graceful, comely woman, perhaps a little pale — 
there are white roses and red — with delicate features 
on which the sculptor Thought has chiselled his fine 
lines, giving to them character, distinction; her still- 
bright eyes unspoilt ; with her fit crown of soft brown 
hair that Time has touched with no unkindly hand — 
would be the more beautiful. 

MISS KITE 

[Her eyes still turned away from him.] You don't 
understand. The world makes life hard to — old 
women. 

THE STRANGER 

Will you not help them? [She turns her eyes to 
his. ] By letting the world see that " old women " of 
forty [he is smiling] can be charming. 

MISS KITE 

[She rises.] Good-night. 

THE STRANGER 

[Rising also.] You are going? 

MISS KITE 

To try to forget all that you have been saying. 
Yes, I can — and T mean to. I*m a spiteful, venomous- 
tongued old cat — a painted, pitiful creature without 

[95] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

self-respect — and I hate you because you have made 
me see myself as I am. I hate you. I 

[The folding doors open, wright and the major 
enter, miss kite has restrained her angry tones to a 
whisper. MRS. de hooley has continued her writing, 
CHRISTOPHER his sketching,] 

MAJOR 

[As they enter.] Ah! you're too good for me. 

WRIGHT 

You weren't up to your usual form. 

MAJOR 

Ah! Fm no good against a player like you. [To 
CHRISTOPHER] Any news from upstairs? 

CHRISTOPHER 

[Shakes his head.] None. 

MISS KITE 

[She has recovered her old self. She speaks to im- 
press the room.] I have enjoyed our little talk so 
much. Good-night. 

THE STRANGER 

Good-night. [He holds out his hand. She answers 
by flouncing out of the room.] 

[96] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

[To WRIGHT.] ril run up — see what's happening. 
[Finds himself in front of the stranger; he stops, 
spreads out his legs, puts his hands behind him, and 
stares insultingly. ] Well, what's going to pull off the 
Lincolnshire Handicap ! Tell me, and I'll go straight 
out and bet my boots upon it. 

THE STRANGER 

I think you would be ill advised. I am not an au- 
thority. 

MAJOR 

Not a — Aren't you Captain Spy of the " Racing 

News"? 

THE STRANGER 

I have not that distinction. 

MAJOR 

God bless my soul! They told me you were Cap- 
tain Spy, travelling incognito. [Beginning a coarse 
laugh, he looks round the room for support. It is not 
forthcoming. The joke has fallen strangely flat.] 
Shan't be long. [He strides out, banging the door be- 
hind him.] 

[97J 



The Passing? of the Thkd Floor Back 

WRIGHT 

He always will have his little joke. 

THE STRANGER 

A sense of humour is a delightful trait at all times. 

WRIGHT 

I want to ask you a question. [He looks round, 
draws the stranger further aside.] *' Heat of the 
room '* be damned. It was the moment she caught 
sight of you that she changed — suddenly discovered 
that she wasn't feeling well [with a sneering laugh.] 
What's the understanding between you two? 

THE stranger 

You think it was I who influenced her ? 

WRIGHT 

I don't think anything at all about it. I was watch- 
ing. Her eyes were fixed on yours all the time. 

THE stranger 

May it not have been merely her Better Self plead- 
ing to her? 

WRIGHT 

Her Better Self ! What better can she do for her- 
self than marry me? I'm rich. Ain't I going to be 
kind to her? Ain't I going to settle money on her— 

I98I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

money on herself, to spend as she likes? [With in- 
creasing vehemence.] Ain't I good enough for her? 

THE STRANGER 

And she? Would she have been good enough for 
you? 

WRIGHT 

[Puzzled.] She! Good enough for me! 

THE STRANGER 

Taking all your gifts — your love. Giving you noth- 
ing in return but the cold embraces of a shameless 
woman. 

[A silence.] 

WRIGHT 

You don't understand. The world ain't a story- 
book — all Jacks and Jills and love in a cottage. The 
girl's got to live. 

THE STRANGER 

Ay! To live! It is a fine thing to live! [He 
turns again smiling to little Old Joey.] You shall 
give her Life! 

WRIGHT 

[Staring.] Give her Life? 
[99l 



The Passing of the Thkd Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

The lad she loves. [Old Joey darts a glance at 
CHRISTOPHER, where he sits all unconscious,] She 
shall cleave to him, cherish him. She shall be the 
mother of children — children who shall crown her 
brows with honour ! Love ! Labour ! That is Life 
to woman. You shall give her Life ! 

[Again a silence.] 

WRIGHT 

[Peevishly.] All jolly fine. What about me? 
Where do I come in? 

THE STRANGER 

Man, you love her? 

WRIGHT 

Yes, I know I do. 

THE STRANGER 

Then it is all quite simple. There is nothing else to 
think of but what is best — for her. 

WRIGHT 

Yes, there is. There's me. Ain't I got any rights ? 

THE STRANGER 

Ah, yes. The right to serve. 

[ 100 J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

WRIGHT 

Here, you're making a mistake. You're talking to 
me as if I were some high and mighty Knight Errant 
sort of a chap. It's silly of you. I ain't even a gen- 
tleman. I'm only a common little old man. Why, I 
was a bookmaker — that's all I was. You know, a bet- 
ting man — a bit shady at that. Daresay it's all right 
what you say. Only [he taps his breast; his voice has 
risen to a plaintive whine; Self-pity has given to it 
pathos] I ain't got it in me, 

THE STRANGER 

Are you sure it is I who am making the mistake ? 

WRIGHT 

[He makes a gesture of the hands, and, shaking his 
head, creeps to the easy-chair. Sits crouching with 
his hands stretched out to the fire.] 

THE STRANGER 

You are so sure, [smiling] " Sir Joseph ! " 

WRIGHT 

[He turns."] How did you know that used to be 
my nickname ? 

THE STRANGER 

You were a public character. Wherever you went, 
[loi] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

men spoke of you — of your fine lordly ways, of your 
wondrous kindness. Women also. 

WRIGHT 

Flinging your money about a bit when you've got 
plenty of it, that ain't the same as giving up the 
woman you love. 

THE STRANGER 

Forgetting Self — forgetting all things but the loving 
of her, and the serving of her ! Ah yes, he would be 
a great gentleman who could do that. You — you do 
not feel yourself quite equal to it ? 

WRIGHT 

[He turns a poor, troubled face towards the 
STRANGER.] Why mightn't she come to love me — in 

time? I would be good to her — and kind — and 

[The quiet eyes are fixed on him. The foolish words 
die away.] 

THE STRANGER 

I think you could win her love more readily. So 
that she would think of you to the end always with 
deep wonder — teach your name to her children that 
they, too, might learn to love and honour it. 

[A silence reigns, broken only by the scratching of 

[102] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

fhe HOOLEY pen. Then the door opens, and the major 
reappears.] 

MAJOR 

[Looking round, he does not at first see wright.] 
Is he gone? [Coming further into the room, he dis- 
covers him. ] Ah ! there you are. I'm afraid the dear 
child will not be able 

WRIGHT 

[He seems to have suddenly grown older, feebler. 
A new note of gentleness, of humbleness, has changed 
his voice. He puts the other aside with a quiet ges- 
ture.] Tell her it doesn't matter. Tell her not to — 
trouble. [He rises and goes slowly towards the door.] 

[MRS. DE HOOLEY, having finished her letters, has 
risen. Christopher looks up from his work, the 
STRANGER Stands near the littered table.] 

WRIGHT 

[He turns.] Pity to waste the ticket. [He draws 
the theatre voucher from his waistcoat pocket — looks 
from one to other.] Would anybody care for it? 

[jape SAMUELS hos entered with papers of a pro- 
spectus order in his hand.] 

[103 J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[To the MAJOR.] Would you? Do you think Mrs. 
Tompkins might like to go ? 

MAJOR 

Well — [he looks at his watch] — well, yes, it's veiy 
kind of you. Perhaps she might. 

WRIGHT 

[As he gives it to him.] It's a nice little box — for 
two. 

MAJOR 

Very kind of you — very kind of you indeed. 

WRIGHT 

That's all right. 

[He turns again, and the little bent old figure passes 
slowly out. MRS. DE HOOLEY, taking her work-basket 
from the table, seats herself by the fire, samuels re- 
mains standing.] 

major 

Umph ! Seems a bit down in the mouth, our poor 
friend. 

SAMUELS 

[With a laugh.] Not the evening he exthpected. 
[104] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

Ah, we lovers of women ! — how we suffer ! 
[SAMUELS laughs.] 

MAJOR 

[To THE STRANGER.] Not a married man yourself, 
sir? 

THE STRANGER 

I have not that happiness. 

MAJOR 

Ah! I sympathise with you, sir. I sympathise. 
[He is exchanging grimances with J ape, wonderfully 
pleased with his own clowning.] Been married 
myself four-and-twenty years. Regretted it — only 
once. 

[SAMUELS laughs again.] 

MAJOR 

What are you laughing at? It's quite right — 
once, and once only. 

[SAMUELS becomes convulsed.] 

MAJOR 

[To THE STRANGER.] These modern young men, 
they ridicule all sentiment. They laugh at us — call 

[105] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back , 

us " Darby and Joan " ; can't understand a man being 
in love with his own wife. 

THE STRANGER 

They have many things to learn. 

MAJOR 

Exactly what I tell them. Star of my life, I call 
her, sir — always there, shining down upon me, beam- 
ing, twinkling 

[jape is guffawing, MRS. de hooley smiling, Chris- 
topher watching.] 

the stranger 

[He interrupts, with a gesture.] I remember her 
well — as a girl. 

major 

[He suddenly drops his clowning. ] You ! — Re 

Who are you? 

the stranger 

A friend you have forgotten. 

[jape seats himself; busies himself with his papers. 
MRS. DE HOOLEY and CHRISTOPHER take up their work 
again. ] 

[io6j 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

I beg your pardon. My memory for faces, I am 
sorry to say 

THE STRANGER 

It was a long while ago. 

MAJOR 

It is very good of you to find excuse. [He is 
puzzled. He keeps eyeing the stranger from under 
his brows. He is trying to recollect, but failing.] 
It will all come back to me, I have no doubt. Mean- 
while, I thank you, sir, for recalling yourself. Mrs. 
Tompkins will also, I am sure, be pleased that you 
have done her the honour to remember her. 

the stranger 

To have forgotten her would have been still more 
difficult, would it not? [He is smiling.] 

MAJOR 

It is kind of you, sir, to say so. 

the stranger 

The evening we first met her! [The major glances 
swiftly.] By the stepping-stones! It was hawthorn- 
time, you remember? Could any vision have been 
sweeter ? 

1 1071 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

[After a short silence, very drily.] Yes, yes, she 
was a dainty little piece of goods [he turns away] — 
in those days. 

THE STRANGER 

It is rather wonderful — you will not be jealous of 
an old admirer — ^how lightly time has dealt with her. 

MAJOR 

Yes, she has kept her good looks — to a great extent. 
Of course, her figure 

THE STRANGER 

[He interrupts again, smiling.] A little fuller. A 
fault in the right direction, is it not? 

MAJOR 

Yes, yes, I suppose it is. Never could myself abide 
a scraggy woman. 

THE STRANGER 

You also — if you will allow me — have worn well, 
sir. 

MAJOR 

[He turns quickly.] You think so. 

THE STRANGER 

The years will take their toll. But I find still the 
[io8] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

same quick, youthful step, the same — ^how may I say 
it? — the same gallant jauntiness. 

MAJOR 

[Laughing, delighted.] Still the soldier, eh? Still 
the soldier ! 

THE STRANGER 

I think it was that gave you an unfair advantage, 
llie women ! they succumb so easily to a uniform. 

MAJOR 

[Szuaggering, laughing.] Well, yes. There is 
something about us that seems to appeal to them — eh ? 

THE STRANGER 

The soldier's reputation — for chivalry, for tender- 
ness, no doubt. 

MAJOR 

[The conceit falls from him. He glances suspi- 
ciously at THE stranger; fidgets, turns away.] Very 
possibly. 

THE stranger 

A few of the older folks shook their heads. But 
some of the younger women, I remember, frankly 
confessed that they envied her. 

[109] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

Um! Ah, yes! [He laughs, awkzmrdly.] 

[The door opens, mrs. tompkins enters, an open 
letter in her hand. She has come downstairs, as she 
herself would express it, to "have it out." She 
thrusts the letter forward.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

So ! So, my dressmaker, in future 

MAJOR 

Ah ! my dear, you are just in time. [She is about 
to speak. His look, the tones of his voice, his vehe- 
ment whisper, as he waves the letter aside, silence 
her.} Another time — another time I tell you. [Then 
aloud.] I want to introduce you to an old friend of 
ours. [He indicates the stranger.] A friend who 
remembers us, I am ashamed to say, better than we 
seem to have remembered him ; a friend who knew us 
long ago — in our courting days. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[Bewildered at the major's manner, she looks at 
THE STRANGER loHQ and hard. The dawn of some 
strange recollection comes to her. She turns a puz- 
zled, questioning face to her husband; then looks 
fiio.l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

again at the stranger, then back to her husband.] 
Yes. It was long ago — when I was a girl — in Devon- 
shire, [Her eyes are still fixed on the stranger. 
The recollection grows.] We used to have long talks 
together. I remember. 

the stranger 

Your lover — if I may take him at his word [he 
turns to the major; smiling, lays his hand on his 
shoulder] — ^has been telling me how happily your mar- 
riage has turned out. [the stranger stands between 
them, smiling. She turns her eyes upon her husband. 
He seeks to cover his confusion with a jerky laugh. 
Tries to find something to say; can think of nothing.] 
May I — a little late — offer my congratulations? In 
the world's book, so full of the vulgar stories of dead 
love, it is pleasant to come across one with the old- 
fashioned ending. 

[MRS. TOMPKINS remains silent. The major Is 
much relieved.] 

major 

"The old-fashioned ending." [Laughs.] Very 
good — very good indeed. They married and lived 

happy [The theatre voucher is still in his hand. 

I III' 



The Passing of the Thkd Floor Back 

It catches his eye.] Ah! I was forgetting. Mr. 
Wright has been kind enough to suggest, my dear, 
that you and I should make use of his box for to- 
night. What do you think ? 

[The door is open. mrs. sharpe has entered. She 
stands watching.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[She is bewildered — not quite sure whether she is 
awake or dreaming,] Yes, yes; I*d be rather glad to 
— to get out. I — I shall only be a minute. I have 
only my cloak to put on. [She turns to go.] 

MAJOR 

[The idea occurs to him, Heaven knows since how 
long. It fits awkwardly on him.] Can — can I get it 
for you, my dear? 

[SAMUELS gives vent to a low laugh.] 

MAJOR 

[Turns on him fiercely, having perhaps expected 
something of the kind.] I beg pardon, sir. I failed 
to catch your remark. 

SAMUELS 

[Bewildered, frightened.] I never thaid anything. 

[112] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

My mistake, sir. [He turns again to his wife.] 
Can I — find it, do you think, my dear ? 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[She has been staring. On her also forgotten ways 
fit ill] I think I left it upstairs. Thank you, John. 

[The MAJOR goes on his errand.] 

[The astonished jape rises, and, whistling, crosses 
to the desk, where, having lit another cigar, he sits 
and works, mrs. sharpe goes to the little work-table, 
where she pretends to look for some work, but her 
eyes are on the centre of the room. Christopher and 
MRS. DE HOOLEY cast glanccs.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

So it has turned out happily — he told you that. 

THE STRANGER 

That they call you " Darby and Joan." [She looks 
at him.] Nothing, it seems to me, is more beautiful 
than the love that has weathered the storms of life. 
The blossom that flowers in the heart of the young, as 
in those days when first you met him, so handsome, so 
kind, you remember? — that too, is beautiful, the love 
of the young for the young. It is the beginning of 

[ii3l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

life. But the love of the — forgive me — of the old 
for the old, that is the beginning of things longer. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Yes, I remember your voice: it was always the 
same. [She turns and looks at him.] But it is you 
only I seem to remember — nothing about you — no 
time, no place. I suppose it will come back to me. 

THE STRANGER 

And if not, we will not trouble. The meeting-place 
of friends is in the heart. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[She looks at him, smiling.] You always thought 
well of me. I remember that. 

THE STRANGER 

I knew you — so well. 

[The MAJOR re-enters with the cloak. He has 
donned an Inverness cape and carries his hat and 
gloves. ] 

MAJOR 

[He places the cloak around her.] We shall just 
be in time. [To the stranger.] I shall see you 
again, sir. We must talk about old days. 

[Ii4l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

[Smiling.] And grow young. 
[The MAJOR laughs.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[To THE STRANGER, OS fiet'vously and doubtfully she 
takes the major's arm.] Good-night. 

THE stranger 

Good-night. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[At door.] Oh, I wonder — shall I want my smell- 
ing-salts ? 

MAJOR 

My dear, [patting his pocket] I thought of it. 
[She smiles at him. They go out. The . major 
closes the door behind them.] 

SAMUELS 

[So soon as the door is closed, he turns round in his 
chair and bursts into a laugh.] Well, if that don't — 
[laughs again] — if that don't take 

MRS. SHARPS 

[With some work in her hand she has crossed over. 
To JAPE, interrupting him.] Can you see to work 
%ere ? Shall I get you some candles ? 

[IIS] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

SAMUELS 

[He accepts the inierntption.] Veil, yeth. One 
ith a bit in oneth own light. Thankth. [Speaking 
low] I thay 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Cuts him short.] I will get them for you. [She 
goes ottt.] 

SAMUELS 

[Seeing there is no one to join in his laughter, he 
shrugs his shoulders and turns his face to the desk.] 
Ageth of miraclthes begun again. 

[the STRANGER is Standing with his hands stretched 
out towards the fire.] 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

It is curious your having known the Major and 
Mrs. Tompkins. Because I can't help fancying that 
we also are friends. 

THE STRANGER 

I wonder ! 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Each time I hear your voice it comes home to me 
more and more that we have met somewhere. 

[116] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

[He looks at her.] Yes, you are right. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

I was sure of it. Do you know where I think it 
was? At the Tatton-Jones's ? 

THE STRANGER 

It was not at the Tatton-Jones's. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

You are sure? The Yorkshire branch? Her 
grandfather was Groom of the Bedchamber to Wil- 
liam the Fourth. 

THE STRANGER 

Quite sure. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[Tries again.] My cousin, Sir George Tweedle, 
Bart., has scarcely any one on his visiting-list who has 
not a title. So it could hardly have been there ? 

THE STRANGER 

Hardly. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

I wonder, could it have been at the Eghams*s — the 
Hampshire Eghams's? He married a niece of Lord 
Bath. 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

It was not at the Eghams's. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[She is sure that this time she has it right. She 
smiles with confidence.] At Drayton Towers — Lady 
Mitcham's place. 

THE STRANGER 

Nor at Drayton Towers. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

It is curious — very curious. I feel so confident 



THE STRANGER 

It was before you came down in the world. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[She stares at him, but the grave, quiet eyes tell 

nothing.] Before I came down [The rest is 

speechlessness.] 

THE STRANGER 

In the days when you were a great lady. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

I — I don't understand. 

THE STRANGER 

Each evening, after the long day's labour in the 
[ii8] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

factory, your work-worn hands so tired, you climbed 
the many creaking stairs to bring help and comfort to 
one all others had forsaken. 

[A silence.] 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[She has risen. She looks round fearfully.] It — 
it didn't matter in those days. I — I was nobody. 

THE STRANGER 

You held high rank with noble men and women, 
then. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

I — I know what you mean, of course. But you — 
you don't understand. When one is — is called upon 

to enter Society [She looks at him; there is 

something in his eyes that stays her.] 

THE STRANGER 

One leaves one's womanhood behind? 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[After a moment's silence.] One — one isn't ex- 
pected to drag after one a sister who — who brought 
disgrace upon herself. 

THE STRANGER 

Your cloak shall hide her wounds. 
1 119] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[The poor worried lady is beginning to cry.] I — I 
did quite a good deal for her. I did my Duty — [she 
draws herself up] till it became impossible! 

THE STRANGER 

Ah yes ! Duty so soon tires. [She is still crying, 
her eyes downcast. His hand rests on hers a moment.] 
Love goes all the way. [She looks up.] 

[The door opens, mrs. sharpe enters, hearing a 
lighted candle in each hand. She pauses a moment, 
looks from the stranger to mrs. de hooley, then 
passes on, places the candles on the desk.] 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[She gathers her work. The tears have gone; the 
face is smiling.] So you thought me a great lady, in 
those days? 

THE STRANGER 

A great lady. It is the Helpless and the Fallen that 
hold in their hands the patents of nobility. 

[She goes towards the door, turns, smiles back at 
him, then passes out.] 

SAMUELS 

[Without looking up.] Want to have a talk with 

[120] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

you, my lady, about my little bill. [Ticrmng on her.] 
What do you mean by 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Staying him by a pleading gesture.] I am sorry. 
For one or two items, I know, I have overcharged you> 
I will make you out a new one. [She moves away. ] 

SAMUELS 

[Looks after her — shakes his head.] Thomething 
very wrong going on here. [He turns once more to 
his labour.] Hope it ain't anything catching. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She goes to the table, her idea being to fold and 
rearrange the journals. But the second or third she 
takes up has upon its margin the sketches Christo- 
pher has been making. She pauses with it in her 
hand. ] You have been drawing our portraits. 

CHRISTOPHER 

[He is still sketching, his head bent over his work. 
With a light laugh.] Yes; just amusing myself. 

MRS. SHARPE 

They are wonderful ! So like ! And yet 

CHRISTOPHER 

[The tone of her voice strikes him. He glances 

[121] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

up.] Yet what? What is wrong with them? [He 
stretches out his hand for the paper. She gives it to 
him: the wonder comes to him also.\ Did / draw 

these ? 

MRS. SHARPE 

Who else? 

CHRISTOPHER 

But what is the meaning of it ? These are the faces 
of beautiful men and women ! 

THE STRANGER 

[Unnoticed, he has drawn near.] Are not all men 
and women beautiful? Was the model amiss? 

CHRISTOPHER 

Ah ! I must have been thinking of him. They were 
his very words — my master, who first taught me. 
" Ugliness," he would always say, " it is but skin deep. 
The business of Art is to reveal the beauty underlying 
all things." Your voice reminds me of him. 

[MRS. SHARPE gocs out unnoticcd.] 

THE STRANGER 

Then I have been of service to you? 

CHRISTOPHER 

[The enthusiasm dies out.] I am not so sure of 

I 122 J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

that. I was trying to forget him. [He rises and 
moves away.] He expected great things of me. 

THE STRANGER 

[He has remained, his hand upon the drazvings. 
He raises one, looks from it to the lad.] He was 
v/rong ? 

CHRISTOPHER 

Ah, if one could only be an artist without being a 
man ! [ He turns, with a twitching smile. ] You see, 
sir, we young men — we want to live as well as work — 
[turning away again] — to live! to love! 

THE STRANGER 

And Love and Art may not be comrades ? 

CHRISTOPHER 

Art doesn't pay, sir, and one's Love [zvith a short, 
bitter laugh] demands to be kept, at least in comfort. 

THE STRANGER 

" Demands " ? Love gives, not asks. 

CHRISTOPHER 

[With a gesture.] Ah, that Love! 

THE STRANGER 

Is there another? 

I 1231 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

CHRISTOPHER 

[He turns with an appealing gesture. ] What can I 
do ? I want her. Can I ask her to share poverty ? 

THE STRANGER 

You would ask her to share shame — the reward of 
the traitor? 

CHRISTOPHER 

"Traitor"? 

THE STRANGER 

To your Art; [he lays his hand again upon the 
drawing] to the great gift that has been entrusted to 
you! 

CHRISTOPHER 

You take a high view of Art. [It is, without his 
meaning it, a sneer.] 

THE STRANGER 

[There is sternness in the voice — the look.] Since 
when have you taken a low one? 

[A silence.] 

CHRISTOPHER 

[He turns.] Thank you, sir. It is a great gift. 
[Then sadly.] I am not worthy of it. 

[1241 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

Worthy — who knows? — to suffer for it. It is a 
great privilege to be deemed worthy to suffer. Art, 
also, has its cross. 

CHRISTOPHER 

[Smiling.] I wish, sir, I were as young as you 
seem to be. / had such thoughts — once. [With an- 
other laugh] I have always sought to put them away 
from me as something to be ashamed of. 

THE STRANGER 

It is the thoughts of youth that shall one day make 
the world young. I may come up, some time, and see 
your pictures? 

CHRISTOPHER 

To-morrow, sir. It will be so kind of you. To- 
night — I am making a fire. [Smiling at the stran- 
ger, he goes out.] 

SAMUELS 

[He hears the click of the closing door. He looks 
round shyly, the stranger's back is towards him. ] 

SAMUELS 

[The cunning creeps into his face. He sits for a 
[125] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

few moments working out his plan: a few slight move- 
ments of the hands, a little scratching and smoothing 
of the evil face. Then he blows out the two candles, 
and, with his papers in his hand, softly rises and 
comes across, the stranger turns; and for a mo- 
ment, in face of those strange eyes, jape's hrazenness 
deserts him. Then, recovering himself, he thrusts his 
face forward, leering, hut meaning to he amiahle.] 
Don't want to make your fortune, do you ? 

THE STRANGER 

Do not all men? 

SAMUELS 

Got thomething here thath going to make mine. 
I'm going to be a millionaire. Got a thilver mine 
here — [he strikes the papers with his hand] — worth — 
I'm tho exthited about it, I go about telling everybody 
I meet. [Laughs.] Of courth they don't believe me. 

THE STRANGER 

Why should they not? 

SAMUELS 

Well, it ain't thenth, ith it? If a fellow hath got 
hold of a good thing, he keepeth it to himthelf — 
doethn't want to let a lot of other people into it. 



The Passing of the Thkd Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

It depends upon the " fellow." There are generous 
fellows who love to share their good fortune with 
their friends. 

SAMUELS 

[He looks at the stranger; grows bolder.] Jutht 
exthactly what I thay. Why not thare with your 
palth? Ethpethally when — ath in thith cath — thereth 
enough for all. [All the time he is eyeing the 
stranger, advancing from point to point.] Would 
you like a thmall parthel? [He opens his papers, 
pushes them across the table towards the stranger.] 
You'd do good with the money. I can thee that. For 

a mere couple of hundred Here, don't lithen to 

me. Look at the figurth for yourthelf. They'll thow 
you. [He seats himself the other side of the table.] 

THE stranger 

[With a gentle movement he pushes them hack 
across the table.] You are — is it not so? — a Jew? 

SAMUELS 

[He starts back as though struck. With snarling 
anger.] Veil, what if I am? You can't help what 
you wath born. Ath a matter of fact, I ain't a Jew— 

[W7l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

not now. And if I wath, what differenth would that 
make? 

THE STRANGER 

Your word would be sufficient. 
[SAMUELS stares.] 

THE STRANGER 

The word of a Jew. 
[A silence.] 

SAMUELS 

What makth you thay that? 

THE STRANGER 

I So many of the noblest men I have known, men I 
have loved, [a far-away thought is in his eyes] have 
been Jews. It is a great race — a race rich in honour- 
able names. 

SAMUELS 

[He is hard at work thinking.] Yet to hear the way 
they talk and thneer, you'd think there wath thome- 
thing dithgrathful in even having been bom a Jew. 

THE STRANGER 

The Jew shall teach them their mistake. 
[128] 



The Passing of the Thkd Floor Back 

SAMUELS 

[He glances up — fidgets in his chair.] Of courthe, 
I don't thay that thome among uth mayn't be a bit 
tricky. 

THE STRANGER 

There are to be found everywhere those not 
ashamed to bring dishonour on their people. 

SAMUELS 

[He rises.] Jutht exthactly what I thay. Thereth 
good and bad everywhere. We're no worthe than 
anybody elthe. We can hold our own — I don't thay 
ath we can't. If it'th a game of who'th going to 
betht whom — very well, we're in it. If a thentleman 
Cometh to uth, treath uth ath a thentleman 

THE STRANGER 

He will find that the Jew can also be a gentleman. 
[A moment — he touches lightly the papers.] You 
were going to be so kind 

SAMUELS 

[He stares at the stranger, then at his wonderful 

papers, then again at the stranger. ] Yeth, I did 

What do you think about it — yourthelf ? 

[129] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

That your offer is most generous — that I accept it, 
with all thanks. 

SAMUELS 

[He is still staring at the stranger.] Don't you 
think — you'll forgive my thaying it, but you don't 
thtrike me exthactly ath a buthineth man — don't you 
think it would be better to leave it over for a day or 
two? — conthult a friend? 

THE STRANGER 

What friend better than yourself ? 

SAMUELS 

[Slowly he draws back the papers.] Got mythelf 
to think of. Wath forgetting that. You thee, if you 
wath to take my word and anything by any chanthe 
wath to go wrong, / thould feel — [Laughs, then 
gravely] well, I thould feel ath though I'd been thell- 
ing the whole Jewith rathe for a couple of hundred 
poundth or tho. 'Tain't worth it. [He moves to- 
wards the door — turns.] Thorry. Thomething elthe, 
perhapth — thome other time. 

[He goes out, closing the door.] 

[the STRANGER remains standing by the table. The 
[130I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

folding doors open, stasia enters. A yet further 
improvement has taken place in her. She has been 
"titivating" herself. She wears larkcom's gaudy 
green glass earrings. "^ 

stasia 

[She crosses behind the table. Her eyes are drawn 
towards the stranger.] Only looked in to see if the 
fire was all right. Nothing I can do for you, before I 
go to bed? 

THE stranger 

You are gaily adorned. 

stasia 

[Puzzled at first, then understanding.] What, these? 
[with a movement of her hands to the great earrings]. 
They ain't mine — not exactly — ^not yet. Just put 
them on to see 'ow they suited me. 

the stranger 

They are not good enough for you. 

stasia 

Of course they are not real. I know that. But 
they're rather effective, don't you think? [She looks 
up at him with her serious, childish eyes.] 

[131I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

They do not become you. They are not pure. 

STASIA 

What can I expect? You see, I'm only a slavey. 

THE STRANGER 

Your people — who are they? 

STASIA 

My people! Do you mean relations — father, 
mother, all that sort o' thing? 

THE STRANGER 

Who are they? 

STASIA 

[Shakes her head.] I dunno. My mother died in 
the *orspital, so they've always told me. Never 'eard 
anything about my father. 

THE STRANGER 

[He lays his hand upon her shoulder.] He was a 
friend of mine. 

STASIA 

[Her great eyes open wide.] My father! — a friend 
of [Her voice dies away in the wonder.] 

THE STRANGER 

A dear friend. 

[132] 



The Passing of the Thh-d Floor Back 

STASIA 

Then — then was he a gentleman ? 

THE STRANGER 

[He remains silent a moment before speaking.] A 
great gentleman. 

STASIA 

[ The marvel growing. ] Then am I — a lidy ? 

THE STRANGER 

His daughter. And so like him. [He puts his 
hands upon her shoulders, smiling at her.] His kind, 
brave eyes 

STASIA 

[She is looking up at him, smiling.] 

THE STRANGER 

His ever-ready smile — his voice ! 

STASIA 

[As in a dream. ] And he was — a gentleman ? 

THE STRANGER 

A gallant gentleman. [He turns away a moment.] 
May his sins be forgot ! 

STASIA 

And I [Then from her dream she wakes.] 

U33] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

You're making gime of me. [The tears are in her 
voice.] 'Ow can I be any one? I was born in a 
workhouse. 

THE STRANGER 

[Again a moment's silence.] A King, once, was 
born in a stable. 

STASIA 

Yus. Sort o' King like I'm a lidy — that nobody 
knows. 

THE STRANGER 

They learnt it later. 

STASIA 

[She looks up — meets his eyes.] You're talking 
sense : you mean a real King — with a crown. 

THE STRANGER 

Yes; He wore a crown. So, you see, Stasia, the 
place doesn't matter. There must be poor kings the 
world, for a time, does not know. So there must 
likewise be poor gentlewomen, daughters of poor gen- 
tlemen. 

STASIA 

[She looks at him and the doubts fall away.] Yes, 
he must have been a gentleman if he was your friend. 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[She smiles, and her hands creep out timidly towards 
him.] Would you mind — for his sake, like? I've 
often thought Fd like to have a friend. 

THE STRANGER 

[He stands waiting. His arms are open.] 

STASIA 

[She comes towards him, smiling. Then suddenly 
she stops, and a frightened, hunted look comes into 
her eyes. ] No. I beg your pardon ; I was forgetting. 
Fm a bad 'un. 

THE STRANGER 

[But he still stands, waiting, his arms open.] 

STASIA 

[She shakes her head.] You don't understand. 
Fm a bad 'un. 

THE STRANGER 

Did I ask you ? 

STASIA 

You mean it don't matter? You can [Step 

by step she has reached him. ] 

THE STRANGER 

[He puts his arms about her.] 
1 1351 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

STASIA 

[She looks up into his face, her childish eyes filled 
with love.] I didn't know. 

THE STRANGER 

[He, bending over her, kisses her; then gently puis 
her from him. ] Good-night. 

STASIA 

[She takes from her ears the earrings. Throws 
them one after the other into the fire. They fall with 
a faint crash.] Good-night. [Looking hack, smiling, 
she goes out.] 

[The dim gas-jets give hut a faint, cold light, the 
STRANGER sits in the large chair that is near to the 
tahle. The fire-glow shines upon his face.] 

[After a while the door opens, and vivian enters, 
closing it behind her. She has changed back into the 
plain black dress she wore in the afternoon. Her 
hair, drawn back from her white face, she has allowed 
to fall loose. She moves slowly across the room, 
looking at the stranger without speaking. She 
kneels the other side of the fire, her arm over the arm 
of the chair, staring into the fire. After a while she 
turns her face and looks at him. ] 
[136] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

VIVIAN 

Who are you ? Why do you follow me ? I see you 
in the streets; you look at me out of crowds. Why 
have you come here? What is it that you want 
with me ? 

THE STRANGER 

To plead with you — will you listen? — for one who 
loves you. 

VIVIAN 

You are his friend. It is he who has brought you 
here — to plead for him. Poor boy! [Then harden- 
ing again. ] Well, what have you to say ? What pro- 
posals do you bring from him? What does my lover 
offer me ? 

THE STRANGER 

Poverty — struggle; hopes — fears; pain — joy; love 
—life. 

[A silence.] 

VIVIAN 

[With her bitter laugh.] So he has told you I am 
that — that sort of a woman? Hadn't you better find 
out the truth about me before you waste your words? 
Look at me [she draws nearer] with those eyes that 

[137] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

seem to read one through and through. Is it not 
written plainly enough, the thing I am ? 

THE STRANGER 

[He looks into her eyes.] A woman fair and sweet, 
made for honour, for worship. 

VIVIAN 

[With a low cry.] Ah, perhaps! But what has 
she made of herself? What else do you read? 

THE STRANGER 

It is not written. 

VIVIAN 

[She springs up, with a mocking laugh.] But it 
soon will be. Shall I tell you the lover of my choice? 
The man who can give me all my soul's desire — money 
and the things that money can buy. You think me a 
woman. I am only a luxury-loving animal. He will 
give me Shame to live with me. But after a little 
while I shall get used to her. She will be clad in fine 
clothes, and I shall think her Honour. Go back to 
him. Tell him my choice is made. I have had a 
better offer. I marry Shame. 

THE STRANGER 

You will not wed with Shame. You shall not. 
[138] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

VIVIAN 

[She turns.] " Shall not " ? Who will stay me? 

THE STRANGER 

[He rises.] Your Better Self. 

[A silence.] 
There are they whose Better Self lies slain — slain by 
their own hand to trouble them no more. But yours, 
child, you have let grow too strong. It will ever be 
your master. You must obey. Flee from it, it will 
ever follow you. You cannot escape it. Insult it, 
and it will chastise you with burning thoughts, with 
stinging self-reproach, with repentance that comes too 
late. It is your master. You must obey. [The 
sternness dies, the gentleness returns. He lays his 
hand upon her.] You will marry your lover. With 
him you will walk the way of sunlight and of shadow. 

VIVIAN 

Who are you ? I know your voice. I hear it in the 

wind. I hear it in the silence of the night. Who 

[She is standing, her face illumined by the firelight, 
looking at him. His face is not seen. There comes a 
strange awe info her eyes — into her voice. With a 

cry] You are [There is a movement as though 

she were about to kneel.] 

I139I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[the stranger stretches out his hands and stays 
her.] 

[The stage has grown dark. There is a long, 
strange silence.] 

THE STRANGER 

A fellow-lodger. Good-night. 

[She stands still gating at him with that strange 
look of awe, her face illumined by the fire, the 
stranger's face is not seen.] 

THE CURTAIN FALLS 



[140] 



CHARACTERS IN THE EPILOGUE 

An Old Bachelor 

Two Lovers 

A Husband and Wife 

A Jew 

An Entertaining Party 

A Maiden Lady 

A Rich Aunt 

An Important Person 

The Lady of the House 

A Friend 



[14/J 



EPILOGUE 

SCENE 

The same, and yet not the same. The tables and 
chairs are as before — the worn carpet, the three- 
branched gaselier. But the room from a dingy 
boarding-house parlour has become a pleasant, 
homelike place. A little furniture polish, a little 
soap and water, has accomplished wonders. Some 
one with a sense of art has redraped the windows, 
changed some of the pictures on the walls, hunted 
out some bright ''Sheffield plate " for the sideboard, 
redecorated the gaselier, supplied spring flowers in 
old china vases. Not so much money as loving care 
has been spent. Good taste, among other things, 
woidd seem to have entered into the house since last 
we saw it. 

[It is again a foggy Friday afternoon, and again 
MRS. SHARPE sits at the desk, making out her bills — 

[143J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

a pale, thin lady who during the interval has grown 
a good many years younger. Th-e lines of fret and 
anger have disappeared — a gentle, somewhat shy lady 
with a habit of smiling to herself. She is dressed in 
a quiet, dark frock with lace shazvl. It, maybe, is a 
little old-fashioned, but it suits her. The widow's cap 
is of another pattern — and colour. Her spectacles lie 
on the desk near to her hand, stasia enters, carrying 
a tray laden with tea-things, which she proceeds to 
spread over a dainty tea-cloth. The china and the 
silver make a bright picture very different to the un- 
tidy jumble of the first Act. stasia is a neatly clad, 
fragile-looking little person, her dark hair in soft folds 
each side of the somewhat pallid face with its large, 
wistful, childish eyes. A slight fit of coughing seizes 
her after she has laid down the tray. She waits a 
while to recover her breath, mrs. sharpe, turning 
her head, looks at her. stasia smiles. ] 

MRS. sharpe 

[Turning again to her work.] You don't get rid of 
that cough of yours. 

stasia 

It's only these fogs. I'll be all right when the sun 
comes. 

[144] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

Shall pack you off to the seaside for a month if you 
don't get rid of it soon. 

STASIA 

[Looks up from her laying of the table.] Pack me 

off! For a mon ! [Laughs contemptuously.] 

A nice muddle Vd find everything in when I got back. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Laughs.] Don*t you be so conceited — thinking 
nobody can get on without you. How many candles 
have you had for Mr. Wright this week ? 

STASIA 

Six. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Looks up.] Six? I thought it was four. 

STASIA 

Let me see. There's the pair on the mantelpiece. 
Then one — no, youVe right. 'Twas only four. 

MRS. SHARPE 

I thought I only recollected four. [Writes.] 

STASIA 

I was counting in the two left over from last week. 
[From the sideboard drawer she has taken the after- 
[1451 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

noon apron and cap. The former she has put on, the 
cap she is now fixing.] Haven't got a pin, have you? 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Examining the pin-cushion of her chatelaine.] I 
don't think — yes, I have, just one. 

[stasia has come over and kneels down. MRS. 
SHARPE is " fixing " the cap. ] 

You needn't v^ear it, if you'd rather not. It's only a 
custom. 

STASIA 

Oh, I think it gives tone to the house. I don't see 
anything to be ashamed of in it. I rather think it 
suits me. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Looks at her. Then, smiling, pats her cheek. The 
girl rises.] Why didn't Miss Kite come down to 
lunch ? 

STASIA 

Said she w^asn't feeling hungry. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Not ill, is she ? 

STASIA 

She's fretting herself. 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

foS. SHARPE 

[After a pause.] I am sorry for her. She'd be 
really a nice-looking woman if it wasn't for 

STASIA 

Would you mind my talking to her? 

MRS. SHARPE 

You! 

STASIA 

You see, if anybody else was to say anything to her 
it might hurt her. I'm only a little servant-girl that 
she needn't even listen to, if she don't want to. 

MRS. SHARPE 

You think it could be of any use ? 

STASIA 

She only wants a little courage put into her. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Very well — try. 

STASIA 

I'll make the tea, and then 

[The door opens. Enter jape samuels. The oilu 
ness, the aggressiveness, have disappeared. The cun- 
ning has gone out of the face; it is seen to he rather a 

[147] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

handsome face with its chiselled nose, its high fore- 
head. The moustache has been shaved off, the thick 
hair brushed back.] 

SAMUELS 

Good afternoon! [To stasia.] How'th the cough? 
[His lisp remains, but somehow it is no longer objec- 
tionable.] 

STASIA 

[Indignant.] What cough? Everybody talking 
about me as if I was some bedridden old woman, past 
her work. Haven*t got a cough ! 

[She goes out, pulling the door sharply. The gong 
is heard a little later.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

IVe been threatening to send her off to the seaside. 
It has made us a bit short-tempered. [Laughs.] 
You are home early. 

SAMUELS 

Friday is always a short day in the City — for us 
Jews. [MRS. SHARPE looks at him.] Is that my bill? 
[He is by desk. Takes up one of the bills.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Glances at it.] Yes. 

1 148] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

SAMUELS 

You've made a mistake. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Havel? 

SAMUELS 

Chop on Wednesday you haven't charged me for. 
[Gives it her hack.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

I had forgotten. [Leaning over the desk, she adds 
the item.] Will you be leaving us? 

SAMUELS 

Why should I? 

MRS. SHARPE 

Well, you've referred once or twice of late to the 
fact of your being a Jew. I have been fearing ■ 

SAMUELS 

It isn't what he eats and how it's cooked that makes 
the Jew. It wasn't the manna, it was the Ten Com- 
mandments that led us out of bondage — welded us 
into a people. [His voice has taken a fine ring; a fine 
look in his eyes.] Will the " salon " be well attended 
this afternoon? [Smiling.] It is the third Friday, is 
it not ^ 

1 149] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Laughs.] Yes. Yes, I think everybody will be 
here. 

SAMUELS 

It was a delightful idea. 

MRS. SHARPE 

It is foolish of me, perhaps. But it brings back old 
times. [With another nervous little laugh.] I like 
to imagine — if only once a month — that you are all 
my guests. 

SAMUELS 

Your guests always. [He takes from her hand thf 
receipted hill] We pay you — little enough — for the 
accommodation of a boarding-house. [He slips the 
coins into her hand.] Your thought fulness, your 
kindness, have given to us a home. Your bill still 
leaves us in your debt. [She gives him a grateful 
smile. ] 

[Opening the door, he finds vivian on the point of 
entering. He draws back, holding the door open for 
her. She enters, passing him with a smile and bow. 
They exchange a " Good afternoon." vivian carries 
a bouquet of early hyacinths.] 
I ISO] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

VIVIAN 

You are running away from us ? 

SAMUELS 

To return more worthy of my company. [Smiles. 
He goes out.] 

VIVIAN 

I am the first? 

MRS. SHARPE 

And therefore the most welcome. [Kisses her.] 
How is your mamma ? 

VIVIAN 

She's got a slight headache. She'll be down in a 
few minutes. [She is near the sideboard.] Shall I 
put these in water? 

MRS. SHARPE 

They are my favourite flowers. 

VIVIAN 

[She fixes the flowers in a bowl with water, and 
brings them to the table.] I heard you say so on Sun- 
day. She worries herself about papa. The more 
cheerful he is, the more she persists in regarding it as 
a cloak concealing an aching heart. [Laughs.] As a 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

matter of fact, he is doing remarkably well, and is 
naturally pleased with himself. 

MRS. SHARPE 

I suppose she dislikes the idea of his having become 
a commercial traveller. I can understand it. 

VIVIAN 

I can't. I've just been having it out with her. 
Why shouldn't a gentleman do useful work for which 
he has special qualifications? 

[The door opens, the major puts in his head.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Laughing.] We are talking about you. 

MAJOR 

[Entering, hat and cane in hand.] I am honoured. 

VIVIAN 

I was saying how fitted you were to be a commercial 
traveller. 

[major winces.] 

VIVIAN 

[She goes up to him.] You are not the poor fellow 

that gets shown the door. [She is touching up his 

hair.] Nobody dares to be impertinent to so fine a 

gentleman. 

[152I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

[Laughing, well pleased.] Well, yes. I suppose 
manner and bearing [draws himself up] do 

VIVIAN 

Why, it's taken even me quite a long time. [Kisses 
him. ] 

MAJOR 

[He takes her hand in his.] My dear, if 

[Enter stasia with tea and a plate of muffins, which 
she places.] 

MAJOR 

[Seeing her, breaks off and turns to mrs. sharpe. ] 
It was, to tell you the truth, Mrs. Sharpe, about that 
little bill transaction of ours that I looked in. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Oh, don't let that worry you. 

MAJOR 

I have instructed my bankers to take it up — on 
Tuesday. 

MRS. SHARPE 

It is very kind of you. You are sure 

[153] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

The kindness, dear lady, has been yours — through- 
out. [He goes out.] 

[Outside he meets mrs. de hooley. They are un- 
seen, hut their conversation is heard — or rather partly 
heard. ] 

MAJOR 

Ah, good afternoon ! And how do we find our- 
selves this afternoon? 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Oh, just so-so. Your lumbago, I trust, Major, is 
better. 

MAJOR 

I thank you — a little. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

So glad. 

[ The MAJOR goes his way upstairs, mrs. de hooley 
enters the room.] 

MRS. SHARPS 

[Greeting her.] How are you, dear? 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

How are you, dear? 

[ 154 J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[They kiss.] 
What do you think of it ? [She stands and turns for 
them to inspect her new dress. It is a simple dress 
of poor material, but it has points,] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[After a pause.] I think she's going to be clever. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

It's absolutely her first attempt, you must remem- 
ber. [To VIVIAN] How do you like it, dear? 

VIVIAN 

[Joining them.] Is that the frock your sister has 
been making for you ? 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Yes. Of course, she's got a lot to learn. 

VIVIAN 

I like the way she's cut the skirt. 

MRS. SHARPE 

If she can cut a skirt well, that's everything. 

STASIA 

[Unnoticed, has approached.] I like that little bow 
on the shoulder. 

[1551 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Do you know, I think it does help. 

STASIA 

Looks so saucy. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Play f idly pushes her towards door.] Here, you 
take yourself off. And don't forget those muffins. 

[stasia goes out.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

I should say she would do well. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

I've taken a place for her in Judd Street. It's a 
bigger rent than I intended, but then, it's so handy for 
the 'buses. 

MRS. SHARPE 

She must be ver>' grateful to you, I'm sure, dear. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Well, you see, dear, there's the children. Four of 
them, and really 

[There enters joey wright with Christopher. 
WRIGHT is a tuhhy, kindly-looking little man, with 
small twinkling eyes. So much of his appearance as 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

a man himself may be deemed responsible for has 
been altered for the. better. Christopher is the same, 
except that hope and enthusiasm have taken hold of 
the boy. They enter talking and laughing. The 
women break up. mrs. sharpe goes to the tea-table. 
MRS. DE HOOLEY and VIVIAN remain talking. ] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[As she turns azvay from them.] We shall all do 
what we can, dear. [She crosses and greets the two 
new-comers.] How is the picture getting on? 

CHRISTOPHER 

We were just discussing a point. 

WRIGHT 

What do you think he wants to do? Paint me as 
a friar. 

CHRISTOPHER 

Don't you think it would be a good idea? [Taking 
MRS. SHARPENS lacc showl from her shoidders, he 
drapes it as a cowl round Wright's head. ] " A Friar 
of Orders Grey." 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Laughs.] You are quite right. He does make 
an excellent monk. 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

CHRISTOPHER 

[He replaces the shawl round mrs. sharpe's shoul- 
ders. She is pouring out tea.] We will try it to- 
morrow. Ill have the dress ready. [To mrs. sharpe.] 
Can I help ? 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She hands him two cups of tea.] Yes. You can 
say something pleasant to Mrs. de Hooley about her 
frock. 

CHRISTOPHER 

What an extraordinary 



MRS. SHARPE 

I didn't ask you to criticise it. I asked you to say 
something pleasant about it. Til tell you why after- 
wards. 

[CHRISTOPHER laugks. He crosses with the cups.] 
[MRS. DE HOOLEY and VIVIAN are near the piano, 
MRS. DE HOOLEY sitting, VIVIAN Standing. Christo- 
pher joins them, and they talk together. Occasion- 
ally a few words are heard, for instance:] 

VIVIAN 

What do you know about it? [With a laugh.] 
[CHRISTOPHER having been expressing views con- 
cerning mrs. de hooley's dress.] 
1 158 J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

But, my dear, an artist 

WRIGHT 

I want you to do me a favour. As soon as he's 
finished with me, I want you to let him paint you ! 

MRS. SHARPE 

I should like it immensely, but I'm afraid I can't 
afford 

WRIGHT 

Don't be silly. You don't think I mean you to pay 
for it. We'll have it over the mantelpiece in the din- 
ing-room. I'm tired of looking at myself in a mirror 
that makes me out twice as broad as I'm long. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Understands, and she smiles at him.] What a 
good fellow you are! [She has risen to greet her 
new gtiest.] 

[larkcom has entered, a cheery young blade, 
dressed in a grey frock suit, clean-shaven, his hair 
somewhat long and "artistically*' arranged.] 
How did the concert go off? 

larkcom 

[He has developed a theatrical manner, which 
[i59l 



The Passing of the Third Floor Eack 

rather suits him. He is fond of the centre of the 
stage and of gestures.] The greatest success I have 
ever achieved. 



CHRISTOPHER 

A good house? 

LARKCOM 

[He shrugs his shoulders.] The house — ^might have 
been better. But the enthusiasm! — the enthusiasm! 
That new song of mine! I could have been singing 
it now. 

[Between the others an amused smile passes.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Who, having shaken hands with larkcom, has re- 
turned to her duties.] You will be glad of a cup of 
tea. 

[SAMUELS has entered — in changed dress.] 

SAMUELS 

Well, how did it go off? 

LARKCOM 

My boy 



[MRS. SHARPE honds him his cup of tea.] 
[i6o] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

LARKCOM 

Thank you. There was one man, in the second 

row 

SAMUELS 

Only one ! 

[The OTHERS laugh, larkcom, putting down his 
cup, seizes a knife, jape, laughing, places himself 
the other side of the table.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She holds out to larkcom the empty hot-water 
jug.] Hand that down the stairs to Stasia, will you? 
for some more hot water. I don't want to give her the 
trouble of coming up twice. 

LARKCOM 

[Taking the jug.] You think one jug will be suf- 
ficient among so many? 

MRS. SHARPS 

[Laughs.] Don't you be impertinent. 
[larkcom goes out.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

I'm ashamed to say I've never heard him — except, 
of course, here of an evening. I never seem to get 

I161] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

the time. [She is replenishing cups which Christo- 
pher has brought over.] 

WRIGHT 

Oh ! he's good. 

SAMUELS 

Not as clever as he thinks himself. [With a laugh] 
I suppose one could say that of all of us. But he's 
worth hearing. 

MRS. SHARPE 

I must really try. 

[The MAJOR and mrs. tompkins have entered. 
MRS. SHARPE rises and greets them.] 

Sorry to hear, dear, that you've got a headache. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Oh ! it's all right now. I think it must be his com- 
ing home that has taken it away. [With a laugh] 
They say one trouble will always drive out another. 
[She gives a little squeeze to his hand.] 

MAJOR 

[He fetches and places a chair for hef.] You bear 
witness, Mrs. Sharpe, I am compared to a headache. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Who has reseated herself; she laughs.] You are 

very badly treated. 

[162] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[The MAJOR, making himself generally useful, 
hands some bread and butter to MRS. sharpe, the 
muffins to his wife. Later he joins vivian and Chris- 
topher, and laughs and talks with them, larkcom 
has re-entered with jug of hot water. \ 

LARKCOM 

[He brings it over to mrs. sharpe.] Couldn't find 
Stasia. I took it the hot water was the essential 
thing. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Thank you very much. 

[MRS. DE HOOLEY has joined the group at the tea- 
table. ] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Is that the sister's frock? 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Yes. I thought 



MRS. TOMPKINS 

I want you to give me her address, dear. I'll tell 

you what I've been thinking 

[They sink their voices.] 

[163I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Handing a cup to jape.] Sorry to have kept you 
waiting. 

SAMUELS 

[He takes it with a " Thank you." He has been 
talking to larkcom.] 

[stasia has appeared at door.] 

STASIA 

May I speak to you? 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She hands a cup of tea to mrs. tompkins, and then 
joins stasia by the door, where they whisper.] 

WRIGHT 

I say, Samuels, what's become of that silver-mine 
of yours — in Ireland? 

SAMUELS 

Do you still want to be in it? 

WRIGHT 

Well, is it any good ? 

SAMUELS 

As a silver-mine [snaps his fingers.] As a 

dairy-farm — ^might be a good sound investment. 
[164] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

WRIGHT 

A dairy-farm? 

SAMUELS 

Take a run over with me on Monday, see what you 
think of it. 

iVRIGHT 

Thanks, I will. 

SAMUELS 

With a good manager — everything up-to-date 



MRS. SHARPE 

[Coming down.] If you please — everybody. 

[all turn towards her.] 

Miss Kite [To stasia.] Just keep a look 

out 

[stasia stands with the open door in her hand.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

Miss Kite is on her way downstairs. [Her air and 
tone of mystery claim attention.] The question is, 
how are we going to receive her? 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Why— what? 

[165I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

It will not be the Miss Kite we have hitherto 
known. It will be a new Miss Kite. According to 
Stasia, a pale-faced, middle-aged lady with brown 
hair — a little thin on the top. 

[A movement and a silence.] 

MAJOR 

[Striking the table with his hand.] Speaking for 
myself, I shall like her better. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[Laughs.] I think we all shall. 

MRS. SHARPE 

She'll be terribly nervous, poor lady! We must 
make it as easy as we can for her. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Well, I shall congratulate her on her good sense. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

I think, with perfect truth, we shall be able to tell 
her it is an improvement. 

LARKCOM 

Take my advice, you'll say nothing. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

But surely she'll expect us 

[i66] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

Do you know, Vm inclined to agree with Harry. 
I know I should myself. I should rather nobody took 
any notice. 

CHRISTOPHER 

I think that's right. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Well, if you all think so. 

SAMUELS 

That's the right idea. She's a sensible woman. 
She'll understand. 

STASIA 

I think I heard her door. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Go out through the dining-room. 
[stasia goes out through the folding doors.] 
Then that's settled. [She slips back to her place.'] 

MAJOR 

That's right. 

SAMUELS 

[Turning to wright.] She'll be more grateful to 
us for silence than for anything we could say. 

[167] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

WRIGHT 

We can just be nice and pleasant to her. Let her 
feel that 

[There enters miss kite, a quietly dressed, middle- 
aged, pale-faced lady, but good-looking. Her thin 
brown hair tinged with grey is parted in the middle 
and neatly arranged each side of her face. mrs. 
SHARPE is busy with the tea. mrs. tompkins and 
MRS. DE HOOLEY are talking dress, wright and 
SAMUELS are discussing the farm, larkcom, by desk, 
is talking to vivian. The major and Christopher 
have hastily plunged into Art.] 

major 

[Whose voice is always easily heard above that of 

the others.] What I say about Velasquez is this 

[He stops as miss kite enters.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Rising, she goes to miss kite. Kisses her.] So 
glad you have come, dear. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[She is standing close by.] We should have missed 
you so much. 

[i68] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[From her chair.] We always look to you for our 
conversation. 

MISS KITE 

[The poor lady is in an agony of nervousness. Her 
voice is uncertain.] Thank you. I'm afraid my con- 
versation this afternoon [She is on the point 

of breaking down.] 

MAJOR 

[Placing a chair for her.] Won't you be seated? 

MISS KITE 

[It is in a central position. She hesitates, looking 
about her, frightened.] Thank you. I 

LARKCOM 

[He notices her desire to keep her face turned 
away as much as possible from every one. IVifh 
rapid explanatory pantomime to the major — who 
grasping the idea, smiles and nods — he places instead 
one of the easy-chairs in front of the fire, where she 
can sit apart.] Wouldn't you rather be nearer the 
fire? 

MISS KITE 

[She gives him a quick, gratefid glance.] Thank 
[169] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

you. I don't, know whether it is my fancy, but it 
does seem to me to be a bit chilly this afternoon. 
[She sits.] 

WRIGHT 

[He brings over and places a footstool.] We good 
people have got to take care of ourselves. 

[miss kite turns to him with a smile.] 

CHRISTOPHER 

[He has brought over tea on a tray with the et 
ceteras.] Cream or milk? 

MISS KITE 

It's so kind of you. [Helping herself with trem- 
bling hand, she spills the milk.] I'm so sorry. I seem 
so clumsy. 

CHRISTOPHER 

[He wipes her dress with his handkerchief.] I 
don't think it will mark. Luckily it was only the milk. 

SAMUELS 

[He brings her a plate of small cakes.] Take my 
advice, try one of these. [He returns to his talk with 

WRIGHT. ] 

[stasia has entered with fresh muffins, vivian 
[T70] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

}irings one over to miss kite. She places it on the 
right arm of the chair, and stooping whispers :\ 

vaviAN 
You are looking so nice. 

MISS KITE 

[She looks up at the girl. She cannot speak. She 
draws her nearer and kisses her.] 

[ VIVIAN returns the kiss, then slips away.] 

MISS KITE 

You are all of you so kind, I [The tears 

begin to come. She takes out her handkerchief.] 

[They have appeared to notice nothing. A sympa- 
thetic smile has now and then, perhaps, passed — a 
whisper of instruction or advice. The idea has been 
to put her at her ease, as far as the difficulty will per- 
mit. They talk as before among themselves, laugh- 
ing, moving here and there. Christopher has joined 
VIVIAN again, samuels and wright are talking. 
The MAJOR has joined them. mrs. sharpe is in her 
place at tea-table, mrs. de hooley, mrs. tompkins, 
and larkcom form a group near her. stasia is on 
her way out. ] . . . 

[171] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

SAMUELS 

[Raising his hand. ] Listen ! 

[From the foggy street, faint at first, growing 
fuller, rises the voice of a singer. The words are in 
strange tongue, hut the sweet voice fills the little 
room with its music, stasia pauses, miss kite dries 
her eyes. The listening faces lighten.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

[After a silence, to Christopher.] Open the win- 
dow. [To the women] Do you mind? Do you mind, 
Miss Kite ? 

[They answer ''No," "I should like it," "Please, 
do." CHRISTOPHER goes to the lower window, opens 
it. The sound of the voice comes clearer.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

Who is it? 

CHRISTOPHER 

[At the window.] There is no one. 

MRS. SHARPE 

No one? 

CHRISTOPHER 

I can see no one. 

[172I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MAJOR 

Must be in some other street. 

[The song dies away. Christopher closes the 
window.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

It sounded to me like a child's voice. 

CHRISTOPHER 

I thought it a woman's. 

VIVIAN 

Hark ! I hear it again. 

MRS. SHARPE 

It is further off. 

SAMUELS 

Some beggar, I suppose. Poor fellow ! 

[They listen. They have turned towards the win- 
dow.] 

[The door opens, the stranger stands there as 
in the Prologue, with hat and staff in hand. ] 

[None at first see him, except stasia. He makes 
a sign to her; she remains silent. The voice dies 
away. He puts aside his hat and staff.] 

[173] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. SHARPE 

[She turns and sees him. ] Ah ! [She goes to him, 
smiling.] You come at the end of the feast. 

THE STRANGER 

[Smiling.] It is when friends feel kindest towards 
one another. 



MRS. SHARPE 

[She laughs.] I was beginning to be afraid 
[She pauses.] 



THE STRANGER 

Afraid? 

[The others return to their talk, miss kite alone 
remains seated.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

I never feel quite sure how long ^ [Laughs.] 

You know you told me, when you came, you were 
but a Wanderer. 

THE STRANGER 

[Smiling.] But then I was a Stranger — and now 
a Friend. 

MRS. SHARPE 

Yes. But we lose our friends, 
1 174 J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

Ah no. They are with us always. [She looks at 
him. ] 

SAMUELS 

[He comes to them — holds out his hand to mrs. 
SHARPE.] I have some letters to write before the 
country post goes out. [He shakes hands with her, 
then turns to the stranger.] You do not happen to 
be looking for a sound investment? [Laughs.] If 
so — I'm turning my silver-mine into a dairy-farm. 

THE stranger 

You think that the more profitable? 

SAMUELS 

The more profitable. Though maybe [zmth a smile] 
rd have made more pounds, shillings, and pence out 
of it, but for you, sir. This fellow, Mrs. Sharpe, 
[They are near the table, mrs. sharpe has returned 
to her duties] has a trick of leading a poor devil into 
extravagant tastes — love of one's good name, desire 
for the honour of one's people. Such things cost 
dear, in the City. 

the stranger 

It is the mission of the Jew — to teach the Law. 
[1751 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

You remember the words : " Ye shall be unto Me a 
kingdom of priests, an holy nation." A great inherit- 
ance, though, as you say, sir, may be somewhat costly 
to maintain. 

[MRS. SHARPE has poured out a cup. stasia brings 
it to THE STRANGER together with a plate of cakes or 
small biscuits. He takes it with a smile of thanks — 
eats and drinks, stasia waits, watching.] 

SAMUELS 

[After a moment.] You have always taken it for 
granted, sir, in all our conversations that I was a fine 
fellow, in sympathy with fine ideals. But that is not 
what surprises me: it is to find — that you are right. 
[Smiling.'] 

THE STRANGER 

[He has taken hut a bite and sip — has handed the 
cup back to STASIA.] Yes. And this is what we will 
tell to the young men — that the fear that keeps men 
little is the fear of being great. 

SAMUELS 

[He looks at him.] Yes. We will tell it to the 
young men. Good-bye. 

[176] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

[Taking his outstretched hand.] Good-bye. 
[SAMUELS goes out.] 

[MRS. DE HOOLEY is talking to LARKCOM. WRIGHT 

is with VIVIAN and Christopher by piano, miss kite 
in her chair by the fire, mrs. sharpe at head of table. 
She is piling up the tea-things on tray.\ 

MAJOR 

We also, Mrs. Sharpe, must be going. [Checking 
her reply.] Mrs. Tompkins is of opinion that a Httle 
dinner — [He turns to his wife; they smile at one 
another] — at the restaurant, followed by the theatre 
would be a fitting complement to a delightful after- 
noon. 

[Leaving his wife to say a few words to mrs. 
sharpe, he comes to the stranger.] 
I have Mrs. Tompkins* commands, sir, to ask you to 
join us. 

THE stranger 

[He negatives the suggestion.] You know the old 
proverb. 

MAJOR 

" Two are company, three are none." Ah, yes. 
[1771 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

But with you, sir, somehow, it seems different. Wc 
cannot help feeling that it was you, sir, who — without 
knowing it — brought us together again. [the 
STRANGER Hstefis. The MAJOR glances round, sinks 
his voice.] Mrs. Tompkins and myself, before you 
came, had not — had not been getting on as well to- 
gether as — as perhaps we led you to believe. [He 
glances at the stranger, but the grave, quiet face is 
unreadable.] My fault, sir — my fault. 

the stranger 

[Smiling.] It is always "our" fault. 

MAJOR 

[He laughs. With a glance again towards his 
wife.] Children, sir — that's all they are, just children. 
[Confidentially.] Maybe sometimes a little trying. A 
gentleman should always remember to be gentle with 
them. 

the stranger 

[He lays his hand upon the major's arm.] Re- 
membering all our promises to them, even to the 
foolish ones, for our own Honour's sake. 

[The major looks at him; he is smiling. There is 
a moment's pause, mrs. tompkins joins them.] 
I178J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

It has just occurred to me, John. [She gives his 
neck-tie a little twist of rearrangement.] May not 
Vivian think it unkind, our going out and leaving 
her? 

MAJOR 

[He glances across at the group at the piano.] Dw 
you know, I really don't think 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[Smiles.] Perhaps not. But she may be hurt at 
our not asking her. 

MAJOR 

We will find out how the land lies. [He joins the 
group at the piano.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

You are coming witK us? 

THE STRANGER 

[Again he puts aside the invitation. Smiling.] 
You shall be content with one admirer. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

You confess yourself that? [Then more seriously.] 
Thank you. It is of so much help to a woman to have 

[179] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

an admirer — [she looks up at him with a smile] — one 
who thinks well of her, who expects from her — ^her 
best. 

THE STRANGER 

You see, I have known you — so long. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

Not all the time, I'm glad to think. We women for- 
get it is our privilege to be the " Better Half " — the 
more forbearing. You men are such good creatures 
— [laughs] — if only we remember you are nothing 
more than just big boys. 

THE STRANGER 

Ah, yes. The whole round world — what is it? But 
Woman's child, claiming from her tenderness. 

Imajor 

[Returning.] It is all right. Quite a coincidence. 
Young Christopher was only waiting to ask our 
consent to his taking Vivian out to dinner this evening. 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

And you gave it? 

major 
It seemed to just fit in. 

[180I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[Half acquiescing, half despairing.] I suppose you 
know he hasn't a penny. 

MAJOR 

My dear ! He has a cheque for fifteen pounds. He 
showed it me. Has sold two pictures in one month ! 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[She laughs and shrugs her shoulders.] Well! 
[Turning to the stranger] So you will not come? 

THE stranger 

You shall place an empty chair for me — between 
you. 

MAJOR 

My dear, we will. He shall be our guest, if not in 
body, then in spirit. Good-bye, sir. 

the stranger 
Good-bye. A pleasant evening. 

[The MAJOR goes a little way towards the door. 
MRS. TOMPKINS does not immediately follow. He 
stands waiting.] 

MRS. TOMPKINS 

[Her eyes on the stranger.] It is odd. I re- 
liSiJ 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

member you so well But never the time — the 

place. It is as if we had met — in dreams. 

THE STRANGER 

And so much of life is dream. It is a good meet- 
ing-place. 

[She joins the major. He opens the door for her. 
She turns with one last look to the stranger, then 
passes out. The major follows her, closes the door.] 

[larkcom, leaving mrs. de hooley with Mrs. 
sharps, conies to the stranger.] 

LARKCOM 

[Smiling.] Got a bone to pick with you, sir. You 
have never been to see my show. 

the stranger 
You are sure? 

larkcom 
You — ^you mean you have paid? 

the stranger 
You think it was not worth it? [Smiling.] 

LARKCOM 

[Shakes his head.] I didn't want you to do that, 
sir. The whole thing was your idea. I have always 
looked upon you, sir, as my partner. 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

THE STRANGER 

I shall always regard it as a title of honour. 
[His hand is on the boy's shoulder. He looks at 
him. ] 



LARKCOM 

[Taking out his book and pen, and writing.] Any 
time, sir, any place — you just come in — take your 
seat. [He gives the stranger his card, re pockets his 
book and pen.] I don't think, sir, you will find any- 
thing in it to make you ashamed of the connection. 
" Fun without Vulgarity " : that's my motto. 

THE STRANGER 

It could not be better. 

LARKCOM 

[Holding out his hand.] And thank you again for 
having revealed to me that I was an artist ! 

THE STRANGER 

[Taking his hand, smiling.] And Philanthropist? 

LARKCOM 

Well, if taking pleasure in giving pleasure, irrespec- 
tive of how much is in the house, is philanthropy—- 
[smiling] — ^yes, sir. 

1 183] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 



THE STRANGER 

Ah! 



[MRS. SHARPE u ah Out to carry out the piled-up 
tray.] 

LARKCOM 

Shall I take it down ? 

MRS. SHARPE 

Well, it is 

LARKCOM 

[He takes it and, crossing with it, pushes open with 
his foot one of the folding doors. Then turns.] 
Don't forget — at any time — in any place. 

THE STRANGER 

[Smiling.] Thank you — Partner. 

[ LARKCOM goes out.] 

[MRS. SHARPE is husying herself putting all things in 
order.] 

[the stranger has remained standing near the fire. 
MRS. de hooley comes to him.] 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

I wonder, do you take any interest in women's 
frocks ? 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

•fHE STRANGER 

[Smiling.] Why not? Women are of so much 
importance, and a woman's frock of so much impor- 
tance — to a woman. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[Laughs.] Tell me, what do you think of it? My 
sister — she thought she would like to be a dressmaker. 

[MRS. SHARPE, biisy with her affairs, goes out, leav- 
ing the door partly open.] 
This is her first production. 

THE STRANGER 

I think it a beautiful frock. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

You like it? 

THE STRANGER 

It becomes you. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

I shall be so glad if she succeeds — for the children's 
sake. I quite look upon them as my own. [Then in 
another voice] We women are poor things without 
children. 

THE STRANGER 

And there are always children. 
[185] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[She nods.] Rather fortunate, is it not? — for 
lonely old women. [She goes on quickly] To tell 
the truth, I was getting a bit tired of being the poor 
relation. It is pleasant finding oneself for a change — 
[she looks up at him, smiling] — the rich aunt. 

THE STRANGER 

Ah ! you have learnt it : that all the best fun in life 
is — Giving. 

[Laughter comes to them from the group by the 

piano.] 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

Yes. It is good fun. You will come and see them 
one day — will you not? — my children. 

THE STRANGER 

One day. I promise. 

MRS. DE HOOLEY 

[Pausing on her way; she turns again.] Remem- 
ber. 

THE STRANGER 

One day, I promise. 

[She goes out.] 

[i86] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[the stranger turns, miss kite has risen.] 

MISS KITE 

You see, I have grown vain. 

THE STRANGER 

You have excuse. 

MISS KITE 

You still think me beautiful? 

THE STRANGER 

I think you beautiful. 

MISS KITE 

[She comes to him.] I understand. All men and 
women are fair. Only so many of us disguise our- 
selves in all manner of ugly colours. 

THE STRANGER 

All men and women are fair. And some are fairer 
than others. And they shall be the kinder, having 
the more to make them kind. 

MISS KITE 

[Smiling.] To which do I belong? 

THE STRANGER 

[He also is smiling.] Your glass shall tell you. 
[187] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

MISS KITE 

[Laughs.] You are determined I shall be vain. 

THE STRANGER 

Of your rightful place among fair women. 

MISS KITE 

[She looks at him.] It is curious. Your voice 
conjures up to me always the same picture : of an 
elfish child, with her chin upon her knees, asking ques- 
tions of the fire. [Thinking, she shakes her head.] 
I see only the little rounded back, like a note of inter- 
rogation. 

THE STRANGER 

The little wistful face was very fair. 

[She gives him her hand. Then, in silence, she 
goes towards the door; turns, smiling, then goes out.] 

[WRIGHT and the lovers, talking, have drawn 
nearer, wright comes forward.] 

WRIGHT 

You have not been up to see my portrait. 

THE STRANGER 

[Turns.] It is finished? 

[1881 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

WRIGHT 

All but the drapery. Should rather like you to see 
it. 

CHRISTOPHER 

[Laughs.] The fact is, sir, we are quarrelling 
about the price. We thought that, perhaps, you might 
be able to decide between us. 

WRIGHT 

I want to pay him what it's worth to me. That's 
business. 

CHRISTOPHER 

He wants to pay me — well, [laughs] I won't say 
more than it's worth — but more than I would get from 
any one else. I can't accept, can I ? It would be 

THE STRANGER 

A gift. And no man may accept a gift with honour 
— save from a friend. 

[A silence.] 

CHRISTOPHER 

It isn't that, sir. He is a friend — [he puts his arm 
shyly round the old man's shoulders] — a dear friend. 
That's why I can't bear the thought of imposing upon 
him. 

[189J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

WRIGHT 

Who's imposing? I know what I'm about. Tnt 
not a picture-dealer. I'm an Art Patron [with his 
trick of pointing to himself]. Always thought I'd like 
to be an Art Patron. I'm going to brag about it, later 
on, that it was I who discovered you. 

CHRISTOPHER 

[Laughs.] I seem to be in an awkward position. 

THE STRANGER 

You have a partner. And in business, when one ia 
in an awkward position — [smiling] you see, I know 
all about it — one leaves it to the partner. She shall 
decide. [He turns to her.] Whether it shall be price, 
such as stranger pays to stranger — or gift, that we 
may take with honour only from the hands of those 
we love. 

VIVIAN 

[She comes forward^ gives to the old fellow both 
her hands.] Yes. Let it be gift. [She draws nearer 
to him, smiling into his eyes, kisses him.] 

WRIGHT 

[The old fellow is taken aback. The tears conn 
into his eyes. He turns away. After a moment^ 

1 1903 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

from over his shoulder, he speaks to the stranger.] 
Should you like to see it — one day — when you've got 
the time. Clever bit of work. [He sinks his voice — 
jerks his thumb in the direction of Christopher.] 
Wonderful sense of colour — quite wonderful. [He 
passes out.] 

[A silence.] 

CHRISTOPHER 

[He looks toward the open door through which old 
WRIGHT has passed.] How is one to know people? 
I used to think him such a bad man. [Laughs.] 

THE STRANGER 

[Smiling.] "The business of Art is to reveal the 
beauty underlying all things." 

CHRISTOPHER 

[To VIVIAN.] They were his words — ^my Master, 
who first taught me. [He turns to the stranger] 
How I wish he were still here among us! How you 
would have liked one another ! 

THE stranger 

You have given up — "trying to forget him"? 

CHRISTOPHER 

I am trying to remember him, sir, how much he 
[191] 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

expected of me. [He puts his arm round vivian, 
draws her towards him.] We are going to do good 
work — whether it pays, or whether it doesn't. We 
have discussed it all thoroughly, so that we shall not 
be taken by surprise like — like other people are. We 
are going to be prepared for everything — even for 
poverty. 

THE STRANGER 

Ah! that is the secret. Love! she is a woman. 
And all men can she love — save one; with all men 
may she dwell — save one : with all men save the coward. 
It is not poverty ; it is the fear of poverty that drives 
out Love. 

[A moment.] 

CHRISTOPHER 

[He holds out his hand.] Good-bye, sir. I am glad 
you came into this house. I cannot tell you all you 
have done for me. It would not sound much — in 
words. I wish there was something we could do for 
you, in return. 

THE STRANGER 

You would? [He is between them. He lays a 
hand on each.] It will seem so easy. But there will 
[1^1 



The Passing of the TWrd Floor Back 

come days when the memory of a promise made to 
a friend r/nay help. You shall give me, as a gift, this 
promise: that through all things to the end you love 
one another. 

[The fog is thickening. The light struggling 
through the twin windows is faint and yellow. They 
move towards the doors. A white hyacinth , fallen 
from the howl upon the table, lies upon the floor. 
VIVIAN, stooping, picks it up, holds it pressed between 
her folded hands. One feels that often in the years 
ic come she will take it from its secret place; that, 
gazing at it, she will see again the fading room, the 
r ITRANGER Standing with bent shottlders.] 

[They turn their eyes again to the stranger, his 
iace is towards them. They pass out, smiling, 
through the open door, mrs, sharpe has entered 
through the folding doors. She stands watching. 
They pass out without seeing her. the stranger 
turns. She comes towards him.] 

MRS. SHARPE 

You are going away from us: something tells me. 
Ah, no! do not answer me: do not let me know. It 
is only for a little while. You will be returning — 

1 103 J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

very soon. Your room will be ready for you — al- 
ways. 

THE STRANGER 

[He, smiling, holds out his hand.] As friends, at 
eventide, we will merely say Good-night. 

MRS. SHARPE 

[Smiling, she takes his hand.] Good-night. [She 
turns. Upon the shining mahogany table stands only 
the howl of hyacinths. A few drops of water are 
spilled. With her handkerchief she wipes them away. 
At the folding doors she turns again, smiling.] Good- 
night. [She passes out, closing the doors.] 

[the STRANGER stands silent. After a while the 
door opens again, stasia enters.] 

STASIA 

[She goes to the sideboard, opens it, takes out the 
tablecloth.] Still keeps foggy, don't it? 

THE STRANGER 

[Her eyes are bent upon her work. He stands be- 
fore her.] I see blue skies and sunshine. 

STASIA 

[She looks up. He is looking into her eyes, smil- 
[194I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

ing.] You mean me? [She laughs.] Yes, it doesn't 
matter, does it? [She lets fall her work, flings her 
arms about him.\ Oh, it was such a muddle before 
you came — life! everything! I couldn't make head or 
tail of it. 

-fHE STRANGER 

There are so many cannot make head or tail of it. 

STASIA 

[Still with her arms about him.] And all the while 
it is beautiful. [The clock on the unseen mantel- 
piece strikes the half-hour — two strokes. She un- 
clasps her arms.] Time does fly, doesn't it? [She 
goes to take up the cloth again.] 

THE STRANGER 

[He stays her.] There is something I want you to 
do for me. Come to the door with me. Leave-tak- 
ings are but wasted sadness. Let me pass out quietly. 
Close it softly behind me. 

STASIA 

[A dumb pain is taking hold of her.] You must 

THE STRANGER 

I also am a servant. I have my work. 
1 195 J 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

STASIA 

[She conquers herself — drives back her tears be- 
hind smiles. She puts out her hands to him.] It was 
so kind of you — to come. 

THE STRAITGER 

[He takes her in his arms.] I came because you 
wanted me. 

[She goes to the door with him, opens it. He does 
not turn his face again. She stands with the door 
in her hand till beyond the misty square he passes 
from her sight. Then very softly she closes the 
door.] 

[She comes back slowly into the quiet room, goes 
to the table, smooths out the folded cloth, takes it up 
in her hands. She has left the room door open. 
Through the fanlight steals the sunshine. It lies, a 
beam, of light, across the room. Turning, she sees it. 
She goes to it. Her arms stretched out each side of 
her, she raises her face so that the sunlight, bathing 
her face, kisses her parted lips. So she stands a 
while, her face framed in the light. Then she takes 
up again the folded cloth, goes with it through the 
folding doors. And the face that passes out is the 
face of one to whom Love itself has spoken.] 

[196I 



The Passing of the Third Floor Back 

[The stage remains empty. The bowl of hyacinths 
upon the shining mahogany table. The shaft of sun- 
light falling on the worn carpet.] 



THE CURTAIN FALLS 



twl 



THE RETURN OF HI JINKS. 

A comedy in four acts, by Marion Short, author of "The Varsity 
Coach," "The Touch-Down," etc. 6 males, 8 females. Costumes modern. 
One interior scene. 

This comedy is founded upon and elaborated from a farce comedy in two acts 
written by J. H. Horta, and originally produced at Tuft's College. 

Hiram Poynter Jinks, a Junior in Hoosic College (Willie Collier type), and a 
young moving picture actress (Mary Pickford type), are the leading characters in 
this lively, modern farce. 

Thomas Hodge, a Senior, envious of the popularity of Jinks, wishes to think 
up a scheme to throw ridicule upon him during a visit of the Hoosic Glee Club to 
jinks's home town. Jinks has obligingly ac^ed as a one-day substitute in a 
moving picture play, in which there is a fire scene, and this gives Hodge his cue. 
He sends what seems to be a bona fide account of Jinks's heroism at a Hoosic 
fire to Jinks's home paper. Instead of repudiating his laurels as expected. Jinks 
decides to take a flyer in fame, confirms the fake story, confesses to being a hero 
and is adored by all the girls, to the chagrin and discomfiture of Hodge. Of 
course, the truth comes out at last, but Jinks is not hurt thereby, and his romance 
with Mimi Mayflower comes to a successful termination. 

This is a great comedy for amateurs. It is full of funny situations and is 
sure to please. Price, 30 Cents. 

JUNE. 

A most successful comedy-drama in four acts, by Marie Doran, author 
of "The New Co-Ed," "Tempest and Sunshine," "Dorothy's Neighbors," 
etc. 4 males, 8 females. One interior scene. Costumes modern. Plays 
2% hours. 

This play has a very interesting group of young people. June is an appealing 
little figure, an orphan living with her aunt. There are a number of delightful, 
life-like characters: the sorely tried, likeable Mrs. Hopkins, the amusing, haughty 
Miss Banks of the glove department, the lively Tilly and Milly, who work in the 
store, and ambitious Snoozer; Mrs. Hopkins's only son, who aspires to be Presi- 
dent of the United States, but finds his real sphere is running the local trolley 
car. The play is simplicity itself in the telling of an every-day story, and the 
scenic requirements call for only one set, a room in the boarding house of Mrs. 
Hopkins, while an opportunity is aflForded to introduce any nunxber of extra 
characters. Musical numbers may be introduced, if desired. Price, 30 Cents. 

TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE. 

A comedy drama in four acts, by Marie Doran. 5 males and 3 females. 
One exterior and three interior scenes. Plays about 2 hours. 

Every school girl has revelled in the sweet simplicity and gentleness of the 
characters interwoven in the charms that Mary J. Holmes commands in her 
story of "Tempest and Sunshine." We can strongly recommend this play as one 
of the best plays for high school production published in recent years. 

Price, 30 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 
5 



THE TOUCH-DOWN. 

A comedy In four acts, by Marion Short. 8 males, G females, but any 
number of characters can be introduced in the ensembles. Costumes mod- 
ern. One interior scene throughout the play. Time, 2^ hours. 

This play, written for the use of clever amateiirs, is the story of life in 
Siddell, a Pennsylvania co-educational college. It deals with the vicissitudes and 
final triumph of the Siddell Football Eleven, and the humorous and dramatic 
incidents connected therewith. 

"The Touch-Down" has the true varsity atmosphere, college songs are sung, 
and the piece is lively and entertaining throughout. High schools will mak<» no 
mistake in producing this play. We strongly recommend it as a high-class and 
well. written comedy. Price, 30 Cents. 



HURRY, HURRY, HURRY. 

A comedy in three acts, by LeRoy Arnold. 5 males, 4 females. One 
interior scene. Costumes modern. Plays 2% hours. 

The story is based on the will of an eccentric aunt. It stipulates that her 
pretty niece must be affianced before she is twenty-one, and married to her 
5ance within a year-, if she is to get her spinster relative's million. Father has 
nice notions of honor and fails to tell daughter about the will, so that she may 
make her choice untrammeled by any other consideration than that of true love. 
The action all takes place in the evening the midnight of which will see her 
reach twenty-one. Time is therefore short, and it is hurry, hurry, hurry, if she 
is to become engaged and thus save her father from impending bankruptcy. 

The situations are intrinsically funny and the dialogue is sprightly. The 
characters are natural and unaffected and the action moves with a snap such as 
should be expected from its title. Price, 30 Cents. 



THE VARSITY COACH. 

A three-act play of college life, by Marion Short, specially adapted 
to performance by amateurs or high school students. 5 males, 6 females, 
but any number of boys and girls may be introduced in the action of the 
play. Two settings necessary, a college boy's room and the university 
campus. Time, about 2 hours. 

Like many another college boy, "Bob" Selby, an all-round popular college 
man, becomes possessed of the idea that athletic prowess is more to be desired 
than scholarship. He is_ surprised in the midst of a "spread" in his room in 
Regatta week by a visit from his aunt who is putting him through college. 
Aunt Serena, "a lady of the old school and the dearest little woman in the 
whole world," has hastened to make this visit to her adored nephew under the 
mistaken impression that he is about to receive the Fellowes prize for scholarship. 
Her grief and chagrin when she learns that instead of the prize Robert has 
received "a pink card," which is equivalent to suspension for poor scholarship, 
gives a touch of pathos to an otherwise jolly comedy of college life. How the 
repentant Robert more than redeems himself, carries ofT honors at the last, and 
in the end wins Ruth, the f?ithfiil little sweefh^srt of the "Prom" rind the class- 
room makes a story of dramatic interest and brings out very clearly certain 
phases of modern college life. There are several opportunities for the introduction 
of college songs and "stunts." Price, 30 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 

4 



DOROTHY'S NEIGHBORS. 

A brand new comedy in four acts, by Marie Doran, author of "The 
New Co-Ed," "Tempest and Sunshine," and many other successful plays. 
4 males, 7 females. The scenes are extremely easy to arrange ; two plain 
interiors and one exterior, a garden, or, if necessary, the two interiors 
will answer. Costumes modern. Plays 2^ hours. 

The story is about vocational training, a subject now widely discussed; also, 
the distribution of large wealth. 

Back of the comedy situation and snappy dialogue there is good logic and 
a sound moral in this pretty play, which is worthy the attention of the experi- 
enced amateur. It is a clean, wholesome play, particularly suited to high school 
production. Price, 30 Cents. 



MISS SOMEBODY ELSE. 

A modern play in four acts by Marion Short, author of "The Touch- 
down," etc. 6 males, 10 females. Two interior scenes. Costumes mod- 
ern. Plays 2% hours. 

This delightful comedy has gripping dramatic moments, unusual character 
types, a striking and original plot and is essentially modern in theme and treat- 
ment. The story concerns the adventures of Constance Darcy, a multi-million- 
aire's young daughter. Constance embarks on a trip to find a young man who 
had been in her father's employ and had stolen a large sum of money. She 
almost succeeds, when suddenly all traces of the young man are lost. At this 
point she meets some old friends who are living in almost want and, in order to 
assist them through motives benevolent, she determines to. sink her own aristo- 
cratic personality in that of a refined but humble little Irish waitress with the 
family that are in want. She not only carries her scheme to success in assisting 
the fariiily, but finds romance and much tense and lively adventure during the 
period of her incognito, aside from c.inturing the young man who had defrauded 
her father. The story is full of bright comedy lines and dramatic situations and 
is highly recommended for amateur production. This is one of the best come- 
dies we have ever ofiFered with a large number of female characters. The dialogue 
is bright and the play is full of action from start to finish; not a dull moment '"n 
it. This^ is a great comedy for high schools and colleges, and the wholesome 
Story will please the parents and teachers. We strongly recommend it. 

Price, 30 Cents. 



PURPLE AND FINE LINEN. 

An exceptionally pretty comedy of Puritan New England, in three 
acts, by Amita B. Fairgrieve and Helena Miller. 9 male, 5 female char- 
acters. 

This is the Lend A Hand Smith College prize play. It is an admirable play 
for amateurs, is rich in character portrayal of varied types and is not too difficult 
while thoroughly pleasing. Price. 30 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 
1 



JPST PTJBLISmSU, 

CHRISTOPHER JUNIOR 

A Comedy in 4 Acts. By Madeleine Lucette Ryley. Modern coi 
Aime. Time, 2^ hours. Three interior scenes; 8 males, 4 females 
iJhristopher Jedbury, Jr., having accidentally placed himself in ai 
unfortunate position Tvith a lady in the West Indies, is forced U 
marry her without seeing her. He returns to England. His fathei 
Snds out about the marriage, quarrels with him, and turns him out 
4edbury, Jr., goes to India as a clerk in his father's office, then 
discovers defalcations by the manager, and falls in love with Dora 
ttedway. He is reconciled to his father, and Dora turns out to h« 
is wife. Highly recommended for amateurs. 

Price, 60 Cents. 



MICE AND MEN 

A Romantic Comedy. Four Acts. By Madeleine Lucette Ryic^ 
Costume about 1786. Time, 2 hours, 30 minutes. Three interioi 
ane exterior scene ; 7 males, 5 f emaJes. Mark Embury, a man of oven 
forty, is of opinion that the perfect wife must be educated from $ 
tftate of ignorance and simpUcity to the ideal of the man she is aboul 
to marry. He accordingly proceeds to impart his views to a girf 
fresh from the Foundling. His young nephew comes on the scene, 
and Embury realizes that nature intended the young to mate with 
the young. This beautiful costume comedy can be played by all 
females, and is highly recommended for use by girls' schools and 
colleges. This play was originally produced by Mr. Charles Froh^ 
voan witk Miss Annie Russell in the leading role. 

Price, 60 Cents. 



SNUG LITTLE KINGDOM 

, A Comedy in 3 Acts. By Mark Ambient. Modem costume 
Time, 2i hours. One interior scene throughout; 3 males, 4 females. 
Bernard Gray, a composer of music, lives in a garret in Soho. Undei 
his charge is a young girl in the ballet, whose mother had died whe? 
she was young. Hubert Gray, the brother of Bernard, rescues > 
wealthy old gentleman from an accident the latt*!* eventuaUjr tiinr 
*ftg out to be the girl's father. 

■Pricft. 60 r»«t8 



JUST PUBLISHED 

Nothing But the Truth 

A Farcical Comedy in Three Acts 

By 

James Montgomery 

Cast of Characters 

Bob Bennett 

B. M. Ralston 

Clarence "Van Dusea 

Bishop Doran 

Dick Donnelly 

Gwen 

Mrs. Ralstoa 

Ethel 

Mabld 

Sable 

Martha 

SCENES 

ACT 1. A Broker's Office 

ACT 2. Parlor of a Country Home 

ACT 3. " " " " 

TIME: The Present 

"Nothingr But the Truth" is built upon th© siMpl© M«a 
of its hero speaking nothing but the absolute truth for a 
stated period. He bets a friend ten thousand dollars 
that he can do it, and boldly tackles truth to win the 
money. For a very short time the task is placidly easy, 
but Truth routs out old man Trouble and then things be- 
gin to happen. Trouble doesn't seem very large and 
aggressive when he first pokes his nose into the noble 
resolve of our hero, but he grows rapidly and soon we 
Bee our dealer in truth disrupting the domestic relations 
of his partner. In fact. Trouble works overtime, and 
reputations that have been unblemished are smirched. 
Situations that are absurd and complications almost 
knotted, pile up, all credited to Truth, and the result of 
the wager to foster and cherish that great virtue from 
the lips of the man who has espoused the cause of truth 
to win a wager. 

It is a novel idea and so well has it been worked out 
that an audience is kept in throes of laughter at the 
seemingly impossible task to untangle snarls into which 
our hero has involved all those he comes into contact 
with. It is a clean bright farce of well drawn characteru 
and was built for laughing purposes only. 

William Collier played "Nothing But the Truth" for a 
year at the Longacre Theatre, New York, and it be^ beea 
on tour for over two seasons. 

After three years continuous success on the profesa- 
ional stage we are now offering "Nothing But the Truth* 
for amateur production. It is one of the funniest aii4 
brightest farces ever written, and it Is admirahlx auHe^ 
lo amateur production. 



Puce 6o Cbivt^ 



BILLETED. 

A comedy in 3 acts, by F. Tennison Jesse and H. Harwood. 4 males, 
6 females. One easy interior scene. A charming comedy, constructed 
with uncommon skill, and abounds with clever lines. Margaret Anglin's 
big success. Amateurs will find this comedy easy to produce and popular 
with all audiences. Price, 60 Cents. 

NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

A comedy in 3 acts. By James Montgomery. 5 males, 6 females. Cos- 
tumes, modern. Two interior scenes. Plays 2J^ hours. 

Is It possible to tell the absolute truth — even for twenty-four hours? It is — 
&t least Bob Bennett, the hero of "Nothing But the Truth," accomplished the 
feat. The bet he made with his business partners, and the trouble he got into— 
with his partners, his friends, and his fiancee — this is the subject of William 
Collier's tremendous comedy hit. "Nothing But the Truth" can be whole-heartedly 
recommended as one of the most sprightly, amusing and popular comedies that 
this country can boast. Price, 60 Cents. 

IN WALKED JIMMY. 

A comedy in 4 acts, by Minnie Z. Jaffa. 10 males, 3 females (although 
any number of males and females may be used as clerks^ etc.) Two 
interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Plays 3^ hours. The thing into 
which Jimmy walked was a broken-down shoe factory, when the clerks 
had all been fired, and when the proprietor was in serious contemplation 
of suicide. 

Jimmy, nothing else but plaia Jimmy,, would have been a mysterious figure 
had it not been for his matter-of-fact manner, his smile and his everlasting 
humanness. He put the shoe business on its feet, won the heart of the girf 
•lerk, saved her erring brother from jail, escaped that plaee as a permanent 
boarding house himself, and foiled the villain. 

Clean, wholesome comedy with just a touch of human nature, just a dash of 
excitement and more than a little bit of true philosophy make "In Walked Jimmy" 
one of the most delightful of plays. Jimmy is full of the religion of life, the 
religion of happiness and the religion of helpfulness, and he so permeates the 
atmosphere with his "religion" that everyone is happy. The spirit of optimism, 
good cheer, and hearty laughter dominates the play. There is not a dull moment 
in any of the four acts. We strongly re«ommend it. Price, 60 Cents. 

MARTHA BY-THE-DAY. 

An optimistic comedy in thre« acts, by Julie M. Lippmann, author of 
the "Martha" stories. 5 males, 5 females. Three interior scenes. Cos- 
tumes modern. Plays 25^ hours. 

It is altogether a gentle thing, this play. It is full of quaint humor, old- 
fashioned, homely sentiment, the kind that people who see the play will recall 
and chuckle over tomorrow and the next day. 

Miss Lippmann has herself adapted her very successful book for stage service, 
and in doing this has selected from her novel the most telling incidents, infectious 
comedy and homely sentiment for the play, and the result is thoroughly delightful. 

Price, 60 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 
SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York C ity 

New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 



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Wm. C. de MiUe 


Percy MacKaye 


Roi Cooper Megrue 


Sir Arthur Conan Doyle 


Edward E. Rose 


Louis N. Parker 


Israel Zangwill 


R. C. Carton 


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Robert Housum 


W. W. Jacobs 


Charles Kenyon 


Madeleine Lucette Ryley 


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